


Stop All The Clocks

by lonelylovegoods



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: Angst, F/F, I promise NO ONE dies in this, Smut, Some fluff too, also bob is a man who performs in drag, but there will be pain, kind of a slow burn but not really? lmk ladies, listen they just love each other a lot and they're trying their best
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2019-10-02 18:55:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 71,491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17269223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lonelylovegoods/pseuds/lonelylovegoods
Summary: Trixie and Katya are almost thirty and have been together since college. Things aren't perfect but they're very in love, so when Trixie experiences an accident that makes her lose a big chunk of her memory, she has to learn to fall in love with Katya all over again.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi hello this is a very old timey trope that I've seen used in a lot of other fandoms, so I thought I'd try it out on our girls. This is my first fic so please be gentle and let me know what you think! And a huge thank you to @33rdThwoorp for being an amazing friend/supporter/beta/editor while also roasting my natal chart. Also there is a lot of exposition in this chapter, which is unusually long. Other chapters will be shorter and more plot driven. Please hang in there with us. Also the title is from the W.H. Auden poem Funeral Blues.
> 
> Enjoy!

**Ten years before**

It starts when they’re sophomores in college, when Katya sees a girl in a flowy pink dress and honey-colored hair that cascades down her shoulders. She’s sitting across the room from her in their musical theater class, and Katya doesn’t think twice before grabbing her shit and marching over to sit beside her. 

“Hiya, girlie,” Katya grins from ear to ear. The girl stops twirling a strand of golden hair around her finger to look up at up Katya with clear blue eyes, and immediately the prettiest of pinks spreads across her face as she takes in the proximity. But the blush quickly turns to the cutest little smile, and the girl introduces herself as “Trixie” in this smooth, clear voice that’s dripping with tones that scream _Midwestern Doll_. From that moment on, Katya knows she’s fucked.

Trixie - which Katya thinks is such a pretty name for such a pretty little thing, and Katya never fails to tell her - ends up running in the same circles as Katya. That entire first semester, Katya does her best to flirt the pants off the girl (literally, if she can help it), trying to straddle the line between laying it on heavy and being the perfect amount of aloof. She always makes sure they sit next to each other when their group is out for a movie and insists that the armrest that acts as a divider between them has always been bothersome. The first time she slams it up and out of their way, it’s worth it just to see the furious blush across Trixie’s face as Katya unapologetically leans into her.

Katya goes out of her way to tell Trixie that she’s funny, and beautiful, and so fucking talented. Whether that be through making sure she laughs at al of Trixie’s jokes - even the bad ones, even the seventh in a row about Wisconsin and stepdads - or carefully running a finger up Trixie’s arm when she’s wearing an especially tight-fitting bright pink blouse, telling her “This is cute,” Katya does it, frequently and unabashedly. 

They’re just friends. In fact, the closest of friends. Katya loses track of the amount of nights they spend lying on the floor of Trixie’s dorm, talking for hours on end about everything and nothing, and can’t remember the last time she went to someone other than Trixie when she was so late on a paper she thought her head would fly off. She knows Trixie can count on her first and foremost to make decisions as small as deciding which new nightgown to buy and as big as considering a change in major.

They’re just friends, but Katya never stops wanting her. And the thing is, she has a huge hunch that Trixie wants her too. It’s in the way Trixie stares knowingly at her when her dress is especially low cut, and Katya is visibly making an effort not to stare at her cleavage. It’s in the way Trixie will tuck her head into Katya’s neck when they’re hugging goodnight, or get tense and irritated when Katya’s talking about one of her past hookups.

Katya is so fucking enamored. She can get lost thinking about how soft and plush Trixie’s dark pink lips must be, how her thick thighs rub together in the hotter months when she’s sporting a shorter sundress, how heavy and full her breasts are. Sometimes they make Trixie visibly uncomfortable, and she’ll shift around and move her bra strap in an effort to relieve the pain, and Katya wants nothing more than to peel her clothes off her and massage her chest, kissing and kneading her breasts until she’s sighing in relief. 

It all culminates in the end-of-the year date party that Katya’s speech and debate team is hosting.

She asks Trixie to be her date. And the thing is, it doesn’t have to be a date date - she knows tons of people who take platonic friends or go alone. The ambiguity of it is kind of sexy. And maybe Katya is a bit of a masochist, but when they get to the bar, dancing tipsily with the rest of Katya’s friends, the confusion and frustration in Trixie’s eyes is kind of turning her the fuck on. When they first stumble onto the dance floor, Waterloo is playing, and Katya makes a big show of parading Trixie around, dramatically dipping and twirling her until Trixie’s laughing up a storm and blushing down to her chest.

Trixie’s so hot tonight, in her tight, blushing pink satin dress, with a plunging neckline and tiny straps that barely keep her breasts from falling out. She keeps getting frustrated as the deathly short hemline rides up her thighs, and she pulls it down again and again, huffing in irritation each time. Katya’s eyes have been bugging out of her head since she came to pick Trixie up at her dorm room, and watched those baby blue eyes melt when Katya handed her a dozen roses. 

By the end of the night, they’re pressed against each other on the dance floor, with Trixie’s arms resting on Katya’s shoulders and Katya’s hands planted firmly on Trixie’s hips. The effects of the alcohol they’d drank earlier is slowly wearing off, but Katya still feels it enough to feel buzzed and light. The rest of their friends are long forgotten as a song by George Michael that flirts between being something you can dance to, cry to, or fuck to plays over the speakers, and Katya keeps raking her eyes over Trixie’s body.

The whole night, Trixie’s been giving her confused looks, and Katya relished in the way her pretty little cheeks flushed bright red when Katya placed a hand firmly on Trixie’s thigh when she handed her a shot during the pregame. She can feel Trixie’s nipples harden when they’re pressed close together, and it’s a testament to Katya’s self control that she hasn’t dragged Trixie to the nearest bathroom and bent her over the sink. 

“I really like your pants suit,” Trixie says into Katya’s ear. Katya had found an absolutely killer getup at the nearest Buffalo Exchange. She’s wearing a tight black pair of pants with white patterns of plaid, and a blazer to match. She wears it with a tight white t-shirt and a knock-off gucci belt to tie it all together, and she feels _hot._ “It’s so dykey.” Trixie giggles into her ear. It’s a simple enough statement, but it gets to Katya’s bones, and she’s already so charged with liquor and with how hot Trixie is and how she knows everyone is looking at them thinking they’re together, and at that, Katya just absolutely loses it. 

“I want you to come back to my dorm.”

Minutes later, after an achingly long walk across campus, Katya has Trixie backed up against the wall of her dorm. Their lips are hotly pressed together as Katya desperately explores Trixie’s mouth with her tongue.

She keeps biting at Trixie’s lips, her neck, the top of her collar bone, just to hear Trixie let out these high, breathy gasps. It’s driving her fucking wild, and they’re literally pressed up against each other but they’re not close enough at all, and Katya thinks she’d giving anything to be inside Trixie, like yesterday.

“I didn’t...I wasn’t...sure if you liked me like that... _ahh,_ ” Trixie manages out between hot, needy kisses, and gets cut off when Katya hikes her skirt up to her stomach and gently massages her cunt.

“Been flirting with you all damn semester, mama,” Katya mumbles into Trixie’s neck before sucking on it. “God, you’re so hot, you’re like a dream.” Katya starts to kiss up her neck, and watches as Trixie’s face explodes into a smile that comes with a soft, breathy giggle.

“Katya, you’re so hot, you have no idea, I... _ahh_...I think I’ve touched myself thinking about you every week since we’ve met.”

It’s enough to send Katya over the edge, the thought of Trixie spread out on her bed, massaging her massive breasts with one hands and sliding her fingers over her clit with the other, softly moaning Katya’s name. Katya lets out a rough groan and then pushes Trixie down onto the bed. She listens as Trixie’s moans fill the room when Katya frees her heavy breasts from her tight little dress and starts to suck on them, and spends the rest of the night making sure those moans fill her tiny dorm room.

***

After that first night, they’re attached at the hip. 

Katya can’t get enough of Trixie, waiting outside her lecture halls to walk her to class, doting over her while she eats, even when their lunch schedules don’t line up, following her around on the weekend so she can try on clothes at New York boutiques that are too pink and too expensive and too tight. She doubles over in laughter as Trixie banshee-screams while trying to get little leather cocktail dresses over her curvy frame. Her tits always come spilling out the top, and neither of them can get over the image as they stand cramped together in the tiny dressing rooms they’re about to get kicked out of.

Katya is obsessed with fucking Trixie. At 19, her sexual history isn’t exactly novel length, but she’s fucked enough to know that Trixie is the best fuck she’ll ever have.

She keeps expecting to get tired of it, the way she did with the stringy red head she used to make out with in her high school locker room, or the older woman she’d met at a dyke bar during her first semester at a Big Scary University, or the the butch girl on Speech and Debate that she couldn’t look in the eye anymore.

But Trixie is different, with her thick thighs and soft breasts, with her pale freckles and her breathy moans, with her little giggles as they struggle to unbutton her corduroy romper and her far-off tone when she’s whispering Katya’s name. Katya can’t get enough of her. Her roommate goes home on the weekends, which means long, uninterrupted hours of Katya having Trixie over her desk, up against the door, on the soft blanket they lay out on the carpet, when Trixie sticking her ass in the air and begging quietly as Katya clamps a hand over her mouth. Katya’s neighbors hate her, but it’s worth it for Trixie’s little gasps when Katya’s fucking her for the fourth time that afternoon, for her blissed out expression when she’s been pleasured raw.

They never really have the The Talk about What They Are, but they don’t need to. One wild afternoon, Katya feels like she’s going to explode if she doesn’t have Trixie in her arms, which leads to her practically dragging Trixie to her down by her elbow during the two hours they both have free. They end up with their pants down and their blouses pushed, and Katya’s straddling Trixie on her little twin bed. She’s got three fingers in the girl beneath her and she’s riding her thigh, and Trixie’s mumbling nonsensical phrases of endearment.

“Oh God....Katya….fuck, I love you.” Trixie gasps once she realizes what she’s said - literally, gasps beneath Katya - who stops moving, more than anything else, to make sure Trixie’s ok. “I - fuck - I didn’t mean to say, not like this -”

“I love you too,” Katya says quickly. She doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t have to think about it at all, because of course she does. Trixie’s her best friend and the best lover she’s ever had. She wants to be around her all the time. Fuck, Katya would hang the moon for the girl, shrink it down to the size of a penny so Trixie could keep it in her pocket.

“Oh,” Trixie gasps out. There’s a huge fucking smile on her face, and Katya’s smiling too. And then they’re kissing, but they’re smiling so hard they have to stop, and Katya remembers she’s three fingers deep in this girl, so she gets back to that.

Minutes later they’re both coming, muttering little _love you’s_ into each others’ necks. They don’t really have to talk about what they are after that. But if Trixie is a little more touchy with Katya in public, or starts dropping the word _girlfriend_ into every phrase she can manage when she could have just easily said _Katya,_ or holds her hand when they’re walking into class, Katya isn’t mad. She smiles more because she’s so full of it - so full of love for Trixie she thinks she might burst with it. Some days she almost does.

**Five Years Before**

Trixie and Katya share a tiny apartment on the very edge of Manhattan, and they can barely afford it between the two of them.

They aren’t exactly where they thought they’d be two years out of college, but who ever is, really? Trixie had graduated with a degree in musical theory and communication while Katya had graduated majoring in sports medicine and minoring in economics. She had hated the econ classes, but figured it was a solid fallback to have for someone who knew fuckall about what they wanted to make a career out of, so she’d bitten the bullet and crunched numbers until she could bitterly grasp the diploma in her hand.

Currently, Katya's a yoga instructor at the local women’s center and bartends on the weekends while Trixie teaches music at an elementary school and works at a makeup counter. Meanwhile, they've both taken up the profession of Pawning Off Everything We Can Possibly Live Without.

Money is tight, job offerings are slim, and they both refuse to move any farther from the city than they already are. Trixie's taken to giving drunken monologues about how they could live somewhere twice as big and three times less expensive if they hunkered down and moved back to rural Wisconsin. These tirages almost always end in Trixie passed out in Katya’s lap with a healthy resentment toward her midwestern state of origin by the time she wakes up, groggy-eyed and achy.

Their situation isn't ideal, but they're still better off than most 23-year-olds. They have a roof over their heads, enough food not to starve, and a mostly-functional if not sometimes-shaky ventilation system. Most days, when Katya's approaching the seventh hour of her 8 hour shift, she feels like all she has to keep her going is the promise of coming home to a glass of wine and her hefty woman, and today is no exception.

Katya's laid out on the couch in their tiny living room/kitchen with a stomach full of pasta that's about to be full of rosé when Trixie comes through the door, shoulders slumped and golden locks falling out of her pretty little ballet bun.

“Oh my God, pour me a glass of that,” Trixie mutters as she kicks off her shoes. Katya chuckles as Trixie plops down in her lap, practically lying on top of her girlfriend. But whatever discomfort comes with the bigger woman lying on top of her is made up for with that fact that Katya gets to card her fingers through those golden locks, breathe in Trixie’s rosy perfume as she nuzzles into her neck.  
Katya wraps her sinewy arms around Trixie’s chest, enjoying her squeak as she gives a little squeeze on Trixie’s tits.

“God, my shoulders are killing me,” Trixie breathes out. Her eyes are closed and her skin is warm. After all these years, Katya is still overcome with the desire to strip her bare in the middle of their living room, to forsake a longer night’s sleep so she can knead the soreness out of Trixie’s muscles until she's letting out deep sighs that echo throughout the room.

“Long day?” Katya asks, settling for kneading what she could reach of Trixie’s forearms. 

Trixie lets out the smallest of sighs in content as Katya begins to work her muscles, and Katya can't help but to smile to herself.

“The fucking longest. I spent a whole forty-five minutes trying to explain the difference between eyeshadow and highlighter to an old caucasian woman. Apparently, ‘one’s for your cheeks and one’s for your eyelids’ isn’t fucking enough.”

“Hey, it’s a woman’s prerogative to question labels sanctioned by the makeup industry, mama.”

Trixie grumbles and nestles further into her, shaking as a Katya laughs against her.

“I’m kidding, baby. I’m sure she was an old hag who’ll kick the can before highlighter even has the chance to go out of style.” Katya laughs at the way this gets Trixie to give a deep sigh of content. “Jesus H. Christ. You know, Marx was right? That fucking gila monster called capitalism is getting us members of humanity to turn against each other.”

“Babe, you know that as much as I’d love another diatribe against the bourgeoisie - ”

“ - ooh, _diatribe,_ she’s an educated woman.”

“ - I’d love it even more if you could poor me a fucking glass of rosé.”

Katya laughs, deep and full against the woman on top of her, and contents in watching how a smile spreads across Trixie’s face as she shakes with the movement.

“You know what comrade, how about I cut you a deal, and you pour yourself that glass while I go warm up the pasta that’s been this week’s dinner?”

“Sounds perfect.”

Katya slips into the kitchen and immediately misses her girlfriend’s warmth, but finds herself smiling as she watches Trixie untie her massive golden waves. Trixie gives a sigh of relief and Katya thinks that she can feel it in her bones, understands the luxury in taking off a bit of your performative self at the end of a day.

Trixie eats and drinks and eats and drinks while Katya rambles on about her day with all the energy she has left. The wine is shitty and the pasta is mediocre, but they’re hungry enough and drunk enough not to care. It’s a ripe 10pm by the time their clothes have been shrugged off and their makeup has been wiped clean, and then they’re in bed. Katya is cradling Trixie in her arms.

“Oh fuck,” Trixie says, startling Katya out of her almost-sleep. “Shit, sorry. But I wanted to have sex tonight.”

“Mm,” Katya hums. “Maybe in the morning?”

“You have your sunrise yoga class tomorrow, babe.”

“Well, shit. Can I pencil you in for 3pm Thursday bent over the makeup counter.”

Trixie pushes at Katya’s shoulder, but she’s giggling. Katya briefly wonders if Trixie’s picturing it, her little black apron pushed up over her thighs, gasping around Katya’s strap-on while crowds of older caucasian women stand in shock, scandalized.

The fantasy is broken by Trixie nuzzling her nose into Katya’s neck.

“What does it say about us that we have to schedule sex?”

Katya lets out a heavy sigh. Trixie tends to get like this when she’s tired enough and has alcohol in her system. All existential and heavy. Katya is in the habit of force-feeding her chilled water and holding her tightly until it wears off, and Trixie’s snoring sweetly in Katya’s arms.

“Mama, it says we’re a couple of hard-working city women trying to make careers for themselves. It’s enough for me. Is it enough for you?”

She knows what Trixie’s answer will be. She knows it from the years they’ve spent fighting and fucking and sobbing and sighing, from the hums of content Trixie releases when she nestles into Katya’s chest, waiting to be held, and from the look she gives Katya over morning coffee that sends her back to whispered confessions of love in her college dorm room.

Still, her heartbeat hikes up at the question.

“Of course it is,” Trixie breathes. Katya feels her muscles relax. “I just...I’m horny. And hungry.”

“Well how about tomorrow night you eat this pussy and I take your pasta. It hear they’re equally effective sources of protein.”

Trixie laughs and pinches Katya’s arm.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, Trix. Now go to sleep.”

The next night, Katya eats Trixie out on the couch. Trixie had come home frustrated and sweaty with an aching back from heavy breasts, and Katya hadn’t been able to stand seeing her so put out. It was almost cathartic to hear her girlfriend’s deep moans, to feel her fiercely clutching at Katya’s hair. What’s truly cathartic was getting to ride Trixie’s face afterward, letting out her own sighs of relief when she comes with hands clutching the arm of the couch and thighs that are about to give out.

Katya is constantly sore, from the sunrise yoga and the hours of standing that come with bartending and the general ache that accompanies the cusp of poverty. And as much as she loves kneading every inch of Trixie, from her deepset shoulders to her pillowy breasts, she absolutely relishes when Trixie flips the switch, and massages every ache out of Katya until her muscles are jell-o.

That weekend, Trixie visits Katya at the bar. She keeps her company while sipping the on-the-house drinks and laughs in amusement as Katya brushes off pick-up lines from butches and femmes alike. Katya has a type, and it’s tall, blonde, and Wisconsin-bred.

Next week, they finally ditch the pasta and start making tofu and fried rice. Katya feels a thrill go through her whenever a new recipe turns out well, or she cooks the vegetables just right, or the tofu comes out perfect. It’s the little joys that get you through it, she thinks, as she watches Trixie happily moaning around a particularly good batch of rice.

They start seeing how long they can go without wine, so they can treat themselves to two, three, four times as much on nights when they finally relent. The experiment ends in a lot of sloppy makeout sessions at midnight and heavy headaches in the early morning. Still, they have fun with it.

Things aren’t perfect, but they’re good. They have their friends and their cozy apartment and their respective jobs. And they have their love. There are days when Katya thinks that might be the only thing keeping her afloat. It’s like everything else in her life gives fuel to her arms, her legs, her midriff, but the promise of Trixie at home with love in her eyes is the weight that keeps her head above water.

Katya likes to think that she held Trixie tighter during those years when heat was expensive and New York’s winters were indifferent and unforgiving. She likes to tell herself that she made extra efforts to make Trixie happy, warm, calm. The notion is comforting to her. So she grips it with all she has.

**Two Years Before**

Katya’s got one hand gripping Trixie’s for dear life, and the other sweating like a hooker in church.

Trixie, of course, is completely ignorant, relishing in the the music around them, the other couples holding hands as they walk by, the seemingly endless river that reflects the city lights. There seems to be little lights everywhere, illuminating storefronts and the faces of passersby in a golden glow. Trixie’s pink cheeks are tanned and freckled from the sunny beaches they’ve spent long afternoons spread out against, and every bit of her, from her hair to her hips, is glowing in a fucking halo of light.

It’s their eighth anniversary and they’re in Florence, and so much has changed over the past three years. It feels like just last week that they were at the bottom of the bottle and the end of the line, working to the bone just to stay alive, with just enough time to fight and fuck and do little else along the way. It’s crazy to think how much in their lives have done 180 turns, and Katya is eternally grateful that things have worked out in their favor.

The older lesbian couple that owned the women’s center Katya taught yoga at had taken a special liking to her and Trixie over the years. Paula and Marian had offered to take Trixie and Katya out to dinner on several occasions, where the younger couple learned that the the women’s center was less of a necessity and more of a passion project. In short, Paula and Marian didn’t exactly need the money, and so they retired early and left the place to Katya. Not only had they grown to love her, but Katya was the only permanent staff member who had something even resembling a college degree, and in economics, no less. The day she and Trixie got the news, Trixie burst into tears and collapsed into Katya’s arms. They cried together on the cold, hard floor of their tiny kitchen and kissed until their lips were raw and they saw the sun peaking through the window.

Katya quit her job bartending and became devoted to running the center, even taking night classes on business to make sure no one would have anything over her that she didn’t already know. Trixie quit her job at the makeup counter and dedicated more time to teaching music. Eventually it paid off.

Once she started teaching at more schools in the area, she knew enough kids to start giving private lessons. And one of her kids had a father who produced music.

The man specialized in scouting out young vocalists, most of whom were beginner musicians, so Trixie started getting called in to play guitar for their recording sessions. Between that and the private lessons, money was pouring in more generously than she could have hoped for, and she didn’t have to deal with any angry white women who couldn’t tell the difference between a maroon and crimson lip.

Trixie and Katya moved out of their rundown apartment to a bigger place closer to the city with a bigger kitchen and a ventilation system they could count on. Trixie decorated the place with warm tones and pink pillows and Katya filled the walls with her antique store finds, stocking their cabinets with kooky Victorian silverware. It was weird and fun and none of it matched, but it was _them_. They had always had a home in each other, but they suddenly got to build one too, and it was warm and beautiful and sometimes Katya thought she could cry around it.

Having more money meant sleeping in later and buying more expensive wine. It meant getting morning sex back and doing grocery shopping at Whole Foods instead of the 99 cents store. It meant sending bigger checks to their mothers on Christmas and covering the bill when they took their friends out to dinner. It meant trips to Italy for their eighth anniversary. And for Katya, it meant a huge, ornate engagement ring burning a hole in her pocket.

Katya had never thought she’d get married. But then again, her first year of college, she swore off ever being in a long-term relationship, and found herself dating Trixie by the time she was a sophomore. When she was a junior in college, she told herself she would always live alone, and was shopping for apartments with Trixie months before graduation. Trixie made her do things she never could have imagined herself doing. She made her be things she was afraid of, twisting and stretching her this way and that until Katya was so far out of her comfort zone, she couldn’t make her way back if she tried.

There was something about being in a relationship with the same person for almost ten years. Or scratch that, there was something about being in a relationship with Trixie Mattel for almost ten years. Something about spending every day of your life waking up to the same soft, freckled cheeks and sleepy blue eyes, fluttering against the soft pink linen sheets you had picked out together. There was something about watching those blonde eyelashes fan out against cheeks you had kissed through tears of pleasure and joy, about the confused then contented sigh you knew so well once those eyes were fully awake and settled warmly on you.

Katya had held and been held by Trixie through panic attacks and warnings of eviction and sleepless nights where they were just so _hungry_ and they felt like if they had any more alcohol, their bodies would break. Trixie had learned her nervous ticks, could tell the difference between her “I’m uncomfortable” fidgeting and her “I need to get out of here right this second or I’m going to break a vase against the wall” fidgeting. Trixie had learned how to squeeze her hand just right, and Katya had learned the difference between a thumb stroking her palm that said “we’ll get through this together” and an urgent tug at the wrist that said “I’m going to get us out of here, just wait until I can fake a phone call from my mom.”

Katya had learned every curve of Trixie’s body, knew just how to massage and suck on her heavy breasts in a way that would make Trixie sigh and gasp in pleasure instead of making her overstimulated and itchy. Katya knew the difference between Trixie’s high whines and short whines and desperate whines, knew which sounds meant “go faster,” which ones meant “slower, but harder” and which ones meant “if you don’t stop teasing right the fuck now and raw me into the mattress, you’re sleeping on the couch tomorrow.”

Katya understood Trixie’s silences, and knew the difference between a heavy hand in the kitchen and a clenched jaw in the bedroom. She knew when to push harder and get her to talk versus when she needed to yell and scream versus when she needed to be left the fuck alone to sort through things in her head.

She understood all this, and Trixie did the same for her. Trixie could turn her inside out and put her back together again, and it was terrifying and beautiful and so fucking hot. But more than anything, it was so deeply _comforting_ to so intensely understand and to be so profoundly understood.

Katya couldn’t stand not being married to her, so about a month ago, Kim and Bob helped her pick out a ring, and it’s been sitting in the back of her underwear drawer like a ticking time bomb.

And right now, Trixie is so beautiful it’s hard to breathe. Her hair is golden and flowing gracefully down her back, and she’s wearing a black wrap dress that hugs her hips and makes her skin look warm and soft. Trixie’s been wearing less and less makeup recently, becoming more comfortable with her natural face, and Katya had somehow convinced her not to bring makeup on this trip at all. Her cheeks are pink and golden and her eyes look even softer against the blonde hue of her eyelashes. Her freckles are deep and scattered everywhere, and Katya has spent long hours kissing every inches of her while she fucks her deep and slowly into the hotel mattress.

They’re walking hand-in-hand in downtown Florence, right along the water. They’ve just eaten dinner and they’re warm and content, and Katya slips her hand out of Trixie’s so she can snake her arm around Trixie’s waist.

She can tell that Trixie is getting sleepy by the way her eyes are drooping and her smile is getting softer. She lazily points out other couples to Katya, mostly to comment on what the girls are wearing and claiming their boyfriends aren’t good-looking enough for them.

“Like that girl - look at her waist! I would kill for a bone structure like that. Her boyfriend looks like a pound of roast beef gone back.”

“ _Trixie_ oh my gosh, people here speak English, you know.” Katya is laughing and tugging at Trixie’s waist a little tighter. She knows that Trixie is saying these things just to get her to laugh. And she’s laughing, she can’t help it, but it doesn’t stop the nerves from fluttering in her stomach. 

Katya’s shaking, and she’s sure Trixie can tell. It’s just - _fuck_ , she’s planned this all out so intricately for so long, and now they’re here and Trixie is beautiful and warm next to her, and they’re already having such a perfect moment, she just feels like she’s gonna go and ruin it if she can’t _sit down to catch her breath for a second._

“Kat, you okay? You’re shaking like a leaf.” Trixie smiles down at her with a furrowed brow.

“Yeah, just....cold, I guess.”

“It’s like 80 degrees and you’re wearing a denim jacket.”

“Ha.” That’s another thing - it’s so _fucking hot_ but all Katya really packed were rompers and dresses and flowy pants, so she had to shuck on this boxy jacket just so she’d have pockets. And now she’s sweating her ass off while simultaneously trembling like a sick chihuahua, and fuck, Trixie is probably gonna say no anyway, she should probably just book her flight home and start looking for a new apartment - 

“Could we sit down for a sec?” Katya blurts out, interrupting her own thoughts. There’s a little bench by the water, and Katya thinks that she just needs to get the feeling back in her legs.

“Sure thing, grandma.” Trixie agrees but she’s looking at Katya strangely. _Fuck, she knows something’s up._ They’re on their way to the bench and Katya’s trying to think of a joke she could crack to clear the weird energy that’s hanging between them - _energy that’s her fault for saying she’s ‘cold’ while wearing a jacket in the middle of summer in Florence -_

“Oh - you dropped something, babe.”

 _Fuck._

As soon as Trixie says it, Katya feels her heart jump into her throat. There’s only one thing she could have dropped, because there’s only one thing in her pocket. Scratch that, there was only one thing in her pocket. But Katya checks it now and finds the jacket empty, and how the fuck did this happen, she’s been gripping that little black box for dear life for the past four hours.

Katya doesn’t have time to gather her thoughts or take a breath or run through everything in her life she’s come to regret like she feels like doing, because then Trixie is letting out a little gasp, and Katya knows she found the box.

“Katya...what….is this -”

“Shit, okay, this isn’t how this was supposed to go but - yes, it is, now - sit, sit down on the bench. Okay fuck here we go.”

Katya’s quickly snatched the box from Trixie’s limp hands and guided her down to the bench, and she’s trying not to pay too much attention to the way Trixie’s mouth is hanging open, how wide her eyes are. Katya can’t read her reaction right now because the blood is pumping too loudly in her ears, and she thinks she needs to do this now, or she’ll chicken out and never get to do it at all. Or she’ll end up dropping the ring in the fucking river.

Katya drops to one knee and hold Trixie’s limp hands, thinks, this is really like a shitty Hallmark card, isn’t it. 

“Trixie. Tracy. Beatrice. I love you. I love you so _fucking_ much and I just - I know I always said I never wanted to get married, but I also never wanted to be in a long-term relationship or share an apartment with someone or try that thing with the butt plug where - yeah, okay, maybe this isn’t the time to talk about that, right. Okay. I really did have this long drawn-out awesome thing I was going to say to you, and I practiced it like, a lot, but uh - well, shit, now we’re here, we’re in fucking Italy Trix, I mean how did that happen? Weren’t we just about to lose the apartment because we couldn’t pay rent or afford heating and were thinking about moving to New Jersey because it would be cheaper - ”

“Katya.” Trixie cuts her off and Katya’s first thought is, _shit, she’s gonna break up with me in the middle of this shitty proposal, isn’t she._ “Babe. I need you to shut up and ask me to marry you already.”

Trixie’s face is stern but there’s a twinkle in her eye, and Katya thinks that she can feel the blood return to her face.

“Okay. Yeah, okay, good idea. Trixie. I can’t fucking stand not being married to you. I also can’t stand the idea of fucking anybody else, so if that’s not as good of a sign as any that we gotta tie the knot, I don’t know what is. So, Beatrice Mattel, will you marry -”

“Yes.” Trixie cuts her off, and she’s smiling like a maniac. _A maniac you get to marry, bitch!_ “Now put that ring on my finger you grandma, it looks huge.”

Katya’s so happy, Trixie could have asked to slap her in the face and jump into the water and Katya probably would have agreed. So she’s slipping the ring on Trixie’s finger, watching her oggle the fat, oval diamond lain in pink stone. Then they’re both on their feet and they’re kissing, and Katya thinks that Trixie might be crying a little bit, but that’s okay, because she feels like crying, too. 

“Oh shit,” Katya hears herself say.

“I know, I know, I can’t believe you just did that, I - ”

“No, the fucking violinists!”

“What -”

Katya’s pulling Trixie by the arm until they reach this little group of musicians playing a slow rendition of Waterloo. It’s been their song since that first night they spent together at Katya’s dumb date party.

“Oh my god, you fucking bitch.” Trixie’s rolling her eyes and Katya is cackling. “I cannot believe you - you’re so lame. I hate you. I love you. Come here.”

Katya thinks that she’s going to try to explain it to Trixie, how she planned on proposing to her in front of the musicians, how it was going to be a huge romantic gushy scene, but she doesn’t get to, because then Trixie is pulling her in and fully making out with her in the middle of the busy square.

Katya is melting against her as she feels all the anxiety from the evening slip from her shoulders. She puts all that energy into kissing Trixie, grabbing her ass just to get her to give a little embarrassed _squeak._

“Now, Miss Fiance,” Trixie says into Katya’s ear. She feels a shiver run through her. “If you love me so much, you better take me back to that hotel room and prove it.”

***

When Katya wakes up, the bedsheets are strewn lazily around her calves and Trixie’s nose is buried under breasts. The sun is illuminating Trixie’s freckles, and Katya is content to bask in the warmth of it and let Trixie’s deep, steady breathing rock into her.

Last night had been a mad stumble to their hotel room, with breathless giggles and biting kisses and hands everywhere they could reach. When they were finally inside, Katya got Trixie backed up against the door and immediately dropped to her knees, moving aside Trixie’s pink silk panties so she could lick a stripe between her folds.

“ _Katya,_ ” Trixie breathed out. As she buried her hands in Katya’s hair, Katya could feel the blunt end of Trixie’s ring - _Trixie’s fucking engagement ring_ \- bump against her skull, and it made her wild with want. She ate Trixie out in dedicated earnest, relishing in the desperate gasps and moans Trixie made above her, getting off on the way Trixie’s grip only tightened in her hair.

Katya guided Trixie to the bed and straddled her soft, wide hips, kissing her fiercely into the mattress. Trixie had come with her back up against the door, which left her content and languid and warm while Katya was still fiery and riled up. The way Trixie lazily circled her arms around Katya’s shoulders only made Katya more determined to press into her, to kiss her harder and with more intent, until Trixie was whining as if she hadn’t gotten to come all night.

Katya fucked her twice, once quick and hard with her fingers, and then deep and slow with her strap. As she watched Trixie’s breasts bouncing back and forth as her head continued bump the headboard with the motion, Katya thought that she wanted to spend the rest of her life worshipping this woman’s body. And every time she glanced down at that fat ring dangling on her finger, she remembered that she got to.

As Trixie begins to stir aware, Katya pinches her nose just to watch her cute little eyebrows furrow. Katya chuckles and watches Trixie’s chin bounce against her stomach. Then her eyes are fluttering open and focusing on Katya, and the soft pink lips that Katya loves are spreading into a smile.

“Morning, dolly,” Katya says softly, carding her fingers through Trixie’s tangled hair. Trixie presses a kiss to Katya’s hard stomach, then the softer skin between her breasts, and it’s so delicate that Katya’s chest is going to burst with it, that she wants to flip her over and make love to her again.

“We’re getting married, Kat.” Trixie says it to her tits and it makes Katya flip her head back to laugh.

“Time to register this pussy at home depot, mama.” Trixie laughs and hoists herself up the bed, so she’s laying on her side with her face inches from Katya’s. It gives Katya an absolutely magnificent view of her breasts.

“Time to pick out silverware and toasters and curtains and drapes.”

“Ooo, let’s get a new toaster. We can glue googly eyes to the one we already have.”

“Ready to spend hours deciding between brown and beige table settings and chocolate and red velvet wedding cake?”

“Ugh. You know what, never mind. Wedding’s off, Tallulah.”

Trixie cackles and grabs Katya’s wrist, using it as leverage to scoot closer to her on the bed.

“Fuck the table settings, I’d marry you in barn in the middle of North Dakota at 4am on a Tuesday.” Trixie says it while smiling ear to ear.

“What kind of animals we talking in this barn? Peacocks? Chimpanzees? A one-eyed goat that looks hauntingly like Gary Busey?”

“All of the above, as long as I come out of it with one more ring on my finger.” Trixie gets closer to Katya and nuzzles their noses together. Katya slides an arm around Trixie’s waist and strokes a thumb over her ribcage, kissing her softer than she thought she knew how.

**5 Days Before**

Katya’s woken up early by her blaring alarm, the same as every day. It’s the only time she can find to do yoga throughout the day, and she knows that it’s best for her in the long-run. _It’s not like you’re getting any younger, mama,_ Katya thinks, and feels the bones in her arms crack as she stretches them over her head.

Trixie used to stir restlessly when Katya started getting up earlier, with nonsensical little requests for her to _stay in bed_ with little pleas of _come on, Kat_ and _five more minutes._ Katya used to kiss her till she shut up, and sometimes even relented. But Trixie’s grown used to Katya’s early morning alarms, and like every other day, she sleeps through this one without moving a muscle.

Katya looks over at her sleeping wife and feels a little grateful that they don’t still sleep in a tangle of arms and legs and tits. The hardest part of her morning used to be detaching herself from Trixie’s warmth.

As Katya lays out a mat in the living room and drops into her beginning pose, she does her best to focus on the cathartic stretch in her muscles, to clear her head of every meeting she has to go to today, every electrical bill she has to pay, every phone call she’ll have to make. She definitely doesn’t think about how she used to do her morning yoga topless just to get Trixie out of bed, which would usually end the workout sooner than expected.

By the time she’s done with her exercises and hopping in the shower, she can hear Trixie moving about the house to start her own morning routine, and wonders if Trixie will make enough breakfast for the both of them.

They got married two years ago in a little cottage in upstate New York. Their bridesmaids wore mismatched dresses and Katya wore a deep maroon suit, looking ridiculous next to Trixie in her gorgeous lace gown. Trixie had picked it out from a vintage store and had it tailored to perfectly hug her hips, her breasts, her waist. Katya’s mom had surprised them with a handstitched veil made perfectly to match, and Trixie got teary-eyed when it was handed to her.

Bob had gotten certified just weeks before the ceremony and made them laugh as much as he made them cry. Katya kissed Trixie inappropriately long and hard in front of their family and friends and their first dance at the reception was Cher’s cover of Waterloo. It was weird and it was beautiful and it was perfect because it was _them_. They honeymooned in Amsterdam, where they got high off their asses and fucked for two weeks straight, barely leaving their room to see the city at all.

Katya thinks about that honeymoon while she stands in the shower and considers getting herself off when she hears three loud bangs on the bathroom door.

“ _Shit_ \- yeah, what’s up, Trix?” she shouts through the glass door of shower.

“I’m sorry babe but could you hurry up just a little bit? I gotta shower before I go into the studio today, I didn’t get to last night.”

“Sure thing,” Katya says. “Oh - and could you try to make some extra eggs this morn -” Katya stops herself as she realizes that Trixie’s already closed the door and her voice would be lost within the shower walls.

She finishes up and then hops out of the shower, swearing under her breath as she realizes she forgot to shave her armpits, and she’s gonna have to rethink the outfit she planned out in her head.

“Honey, the shower’s all yours,” Katya calls through the bedroom door. With a small peak through, she realizes that Trixie’s had cereal for breakfast. _Well, there goes my eggs._ She takes a deep breath to quell the bit of frustration that’s bubbling in her chest, tells herself it’s not the end of the world. Not by a longshot.

“Thanks,” Trixie says, already on her way in to the bathroom herself.

By the time Katya settles on an outfit she doesn’t love, she’s in the kitchen, and realizes they’re out of coffee grounds. She groans, thinking she knew she reminded Trixie to pick some up after work yesterday. She’s mentally revising her route to work, trying to think of the closest coffee shop that doesn’t serve shitty morning roast and grabs a cliff bar.

“Bye, Trix, see you tonight,” she calls into the bedroom. She’s almost sure Trixie can’t hear her through the Dolly Parton song she’s blasting in the bathroom.

Since Katya took over the women’s center a few years ago, both she and the center itself went through a lot of changes. Katya started taking on project after project to expand the business and what it was capable of, until it was hardly recognizable as the play she was teaching yoga out of college.

Over the years, Katya’s role has become far less hands-on. As a yoga instructor, she spent her shifts working with women one-on-one and got to know them by name, listening to them talk about their days and taking them out for coffee afterwards. Nowadays, her job was much more managerial, consisting of phone calls, meetings with instructors and interviews with prospective employees, and balancing checkbooks. 

Trixie, on the other hand, had spent less time showing little hands how to pluck guitar strings, and more time adjusting knobs in studios. She had picked up a reputation in the New York area as a talented and reliable musician, so much so that she had dropped teaching altogether to play guitar for young recording artists. She was also much more involved in the technical side, and had ended up producing albums for a few young, up-and-coming country singers.

 _No one who’s taken off big, though,_ Katya thinks sometimes, when she’s balancing their checkbook.

But all-in-all, they’re comfortable. That’s the perfect word for it, Katya thinks. It’s the year before they both turn 30, and their lives didn’t exactly play out how they thought it would. Sometimes when Trixie is strumming something on her guitar and singing softly in their living room with a far-off look in her eye, Katya thinks back to those nights in college, when they’d huddle close and talk to each other about their dreams. Trixie would nuzzle into her chest and talk about being the next Dolly Parton, and Katya was already picturing herself as the tired but faithful wife of the star on the road, sitting front row at each of her shows and making love to her when they got back to the tour bus. 

But those were dreams that started and ended in the silence of a dorm room at three am, muttered into the chest of the first woman you loved. Reality was running late to work at a job you liked but didn’t love, stuck in line for coffee because your wife forgot to pick some up from the store. 

She starts to send a quick text to Jinkx to let her know she’ll be running a little late, and gets interrupted by an annoyed barista trying to get her attention to take her order.

“Shit - uh, coffee. Black. Just black coffee.”

“What _size,_ ma’am?” the girl in a black apron all but snaps at her,

“Medium, do you have medium?”

“Just small or large.” The words pour out of the girl’s dead face and she looks like she could strangle Katya if she only cared a bit more. Just small or large - who the fuck does that. 

“Large, then.”

While she’s waiting for her drink, she sends that text to Jinkx, whose reply is almost immediate.

 __ **Katya:** I’ll be running a few minutes late today, sry  
**Jinkx:** no worries girlie, I think I can hold down the fort till you get here  
**Jinkx:** what’s the holdup, the missus making it hard to get out of bed again? 

_God, I wish,_ Katya thinks. 

__**Katya:** yeah not exactly.  
**Katya:** go ahead and start that meeting without me  
**Jinkx:** sure thing, bosslady 

One of the services the the center prided themselves on providing - at least, since it came under Katya’s ownership - was free food for its members. But that meant negotiating with small businesses in the area, making sure they could accommodate for allergies, and had a business model Katya and her staff agreed with. 

Katya got to her first meeting only ten minutes late instead of twenty, and she decided that meant her day was on an upward trajectory.

“I owe you one, Jinkx,” Katya says to the woman beside her. They had just finished their first interview with the owner of a newly opened pizzeria down the street. 

“Sweetkins, trust me, when you asked me to sign on as managerial assistant three years ago, I knew you were really asking me to be secretary, finance manager, and general bullshit-mediator.”

“Shit,” Katya mutters. “I’ve really put you through the ringer, haven’t I.”

“It’s my pleasure.” She squeezes Katya’s arm.. “Just bring some of that famous Russian booze you always manage to get your hands on to me and the lady’s next dinner party, and we can call it even.”

They see about eight more applicants, and barely finish in time for Katya to have a late lunch, which she spends sifting through her interview notes, shovelling salad into her face. She has time to check her Instagram, and sees that Trixie added something to her story. When she clicks on it, it’s a video of a young singer, singing along to what’s obviously Trixie’s guitar playing in the background. Katya thinks her name is Melissa. 

_**Katya:**_ beautiful, Katya responds to the story. _The guitar is the best part_

Trixie replies a few minutes later with a single red heart, and Katya decides to push her luck a bit.

_**Katya:** how about some wine and a movie tonight? We can bust out that rose Dela and Jinkx brought us back during Christmas _

Trixie takes longer to reply this time, and Katya’s nearly forgot she sent the message at all, packing up her lunch and her interview notes when she gets a little notification on her phone.

_**Trixie:** can’t tonight, I’ve got a shitton of arranging to do for a client tomorrow :((((( _

Katya huffs in frustration that she knows isn’t warranted. It’s a weekday, and she should have been expecting an answer like that. 

_**Trixie:** I love you. You looked hot this morning, I should have said_

Despite herself, Katya feels a rush of warmth run through her, and on a whim, takes a selfie where she knows the lighting in the office is good.

 _ **Katya:**_ [attachment] oh, you mean this ole look, mama?

Katya quickly puts her phone in her pocket and doesn’t look at it again until well in the afternoon, when she’s done meeting with her finance team and has some time to pop into the afternoon dance classes. When she does, she sees that Trixie replied to her photo almost immediately with about eight heart eyes, and Katya feels her cheeks heating up.

_**Trixie:** a face I will never tire of sitting on <3 _

If she had looked at her phone earlier, she would have made some comment about how Katya’s usually the one who does the face sitting, but the moment’s passed, and she contents herself with liking the message.

The little bout of content she’d felt at Trixie’s message is shattered in the late afternoon, when they have a crisis in one of the dance classes. An older woman falls and twists her ankle and they have to call in the paramedics. The rest of Katya’s day is spent consulting with legal to make sure a suit can’t be drawn against them, and talking with the woman and her family, making amends in every way she knows how.

She’s in her office, about to make another call with legal when she hears a few quick taps at her door.

“Jinkx, whatever it is, please just sort it out. You have my complete and utter permission -”

“How _incredibly_ generous of you,” comes a familiar, deep drawl that definitely doesn’t belong to Jinkx. Katya snaps her head up from her desk and sees a six-foot-something blonde bombshell with wiry arms crossed over her chest.

“Oh, Lasky,” Katya lets out a sigh. “Hey, what’s up. Please don’t tell me another advertiser pulled out, if they did, just lie to me because I can’t handle it today -”

“Go home.”

“What?” Katya’s taken aback, and just as Alaska looks like she’s not going to offer her anything else, she continues.

“I said, go home. You’ve been busting your ass all day and you’re about to lose it with either the lawyer people or Maggie’s family, and I don’t know which would be worse for us, but neither would be good.” 

“No, it doesn’t matter, I’ve gotta sort this stuff out with legal by the end of the day -”

“Let me handle it. You know I sound a hell of a lot more intimidating over the phone than you, and I know how to handle men in suits.” She raises a perfectly penciled eyebrow, and Katya thinks she’s going to relent. It would make sense - as hard as Katya tries, she’s always too nice with people, can’t help but to say yes to them. “Go home, order in dinner, cuddle with your wife and go to bed early. You deserve it.” Alaska rarely cracks a smile outside of social settings, but Katya can detect a glimmer in her eye.

“You’re right.” Katya says it with a sigh, and once she’s resigned herself to going home for the day, realizes how heavy her body feels. She also notices how late it is. “Shit, it’s late, isn’t it.”

“It’s always late with you,” Alaska says. “Seriously, get out of here. I’ll handle the suits.”

“Thanks Lasky.” Katya squeezes the woman’s bony shoulder on her way out, and catches a glimpse of her already sinking into Katya’s seat to make the call.

 

***

Katya doesn’t order in, but she stops at her and Trixie’s favorite Thai place on her way home. 

On her walk back to the apartment, Katya’s resigned herself to an evening alone and considers rewatching Twin Peaks in bed. She’s standing outside her door, trying to convince herself that it’ll be relaxing instead of lonely when she hears commotion on the other side of the door. _Don’t get your hopes up...you’re probably being fucking robbed, by the luck you’ve had today._

But when Katya opens the door, she’s greeted with the sight of a familiar blonde head bobbing throughout the kitchen. Katya feels a warmth rush through her.

“Oh my God, please tell me that’s Thai.” Trixie doesn’t let her answer before she’s marching over and looking in one of the bags. “You. Fucking. Angel.” Katya barely has time to respond to the kiss that’s being smacked on her cheek before Trixie’s bouncing off to the kitchen to get them silverware, insisting that Katya change into her pajamas. “Now I don’t have to pretend like I know how to cook tonight, thank God. I barely have the energy to stand up straight - and honey, that was just about the only straight thing about me!” Katya imitates a hurling sound at the joke, which gets a banshee scream out of Trixie. Katya just smiles at the sound, already on her way to the bedroom to change.

They eat their dinner while watching Will and Grace in companionable silence, and Trixie’s barely finished before she’s getting up to go to bed.

“I told that Melissa girl and her manager that I’d come in early tomorrow to arrange some of her tracks if I could go home early today. God, that girl is sweet, but her mother is gonna drive me up the wall.”

Katya hums, which is her way of saying, you’re right, and I’m sorry, and goodnight, baby, all wrap  
ped into one.  
After Trixie’s retired to the other room, Katya hangs back to watch another episode of Will and Grace, until she realizes that it’s not nearly as fun with Trixie beside her. She figures an early night in will do her good, so she shuts off the TV and goes to the kitchen to get herself a glass of water for her bedside table. 

As she’s passing one of the cabinets, something unfamiliar catches her eye. She goes to stand by the counter and sees two bags of coffee - and not the cheap shit they usually pick up from Trader Joe’s. This is the Russian brand Katya’s mother used to order special, for herself and her own mother, and then Katya too, once she started drinking coffee. That American shit, it doesn’t do anything to me. This is real coffee, Yekaterina, her mama would always tell her. It was about strong enough to break your bones, but Katya would chug it in the morning before school, just to see her mama smile proudly.

Underneath the bags is a little note in familiar, loopy handwriting. 

_They came in a day late, but how cool! I found them on Amazon and I think this is the brand your mom keeps in the house back in Boston. If not - oh well, they have some cool Russian on them. Love you, baby <3 _

Katya feels hot tears pooling in her eyes. Her Trixie is still _her Trixie,_ who used to insist on walking her to class, would sit with her during lunch even when it was inconvenient. She was so sweet without even thinking about it, and maybe Katya wasn’t itching with the desire to bend her over every flat surface they passed anymore, but the love was there. It was was still real and it was still theirs.

When she makes it to the bedroom, the lights are already out, and Trixie’s curled up under the covers. They don’t really cuddle at night anymore unless they’ve just fucked, but Katya’s almost tempted to slide and arm around Trixie and nuzzle into the back of her neck.

She’s positioning herself under the covers and flipping her pillow over when she’s aware of Trixie moving around beside her, and then the lamp next to their bed is on and Trixie’s looking at her with a furrowed brow.

“Do you wanna have sex?”

Katya thinks about how nice lying down and knocking out would be. But she also tries to remember the last time they’ve fucked, and is drawing a blank in her mind. Was it last week when Trixie brought home that bottle of sparkling wine? Or no, shit, it was two weeks ago when they were trying to watch that Jodie Foster movie - 

Fuck it, it’s been too long.

“Yeah okay, sure.”

Then Trixie’s kissing her, and Katya thinks that she’s missed those lips, forgotten how soft and plush they can be when they’re taking the time to explore Katya’s mouth, and not puckered into a chaste _good morning_ kiss that feels cold and unfamiliar. She feels herself sigh into Trixie, who snakes a hand up her shirt, teasing around a nipple until she’s gasping into Trixie’s soft mouth.

Katya reluctantly takes her lips from Trixie so she can flip them over, and begins kissing the nape of her neck. She knows sex with Trixie, and she knows her movements and sounds and touches, knows when she’s desperate for more or needs some space or is perfectly content. Trixie sighs beneath her, but Katya knows that right now, she’s none of those things. She knows it before she catches her gaze, and sees that it’s far off.

“What is it, baby?” Katya backs off a bit until she’s on her side, looking at Trixie who’s lying on her back.

“I just - I don’t know, I feel like I’m being too hard on Melissa and too soft on her mom. That family’s been walking all over me and Thorgy at the studio and it’s been keeping me up at night, babe.”

Katya sighs. She should have known, before Trixie even asked, that they’re not having sex tonight. Trixie doesn’t need someone to fuck her right now - she needs someone who can push her hair back and tell her it’s going to be okay. And as much as knows how to fuck Katya, she knows how to do this, too. So she does.

“Baby, I think you’re trying your best. Those show biz moms can be a pill, you know that. Maybe talk to Thorgy about it, you guys can work it out together. And Melissa sounds like a sweet girl, I’m sure she understands the pressure her mom’s putting on everyone better than we can know.” 

Trixie sighs and Katya strokes her hair away from her face, watches as Trixie institually leans into her hand.

“You’re probably right. Fuck, why am I stressing about this now?” Trixie rubs her eyes. Katya just keeps stroking those golden curls.

“You’re tired, Trix.” We’re both tired. “And you care about what you do.”

Trixie turns her face into the pillow and closes her eyes.

“I guess you’re right. I’m just gonna try to sleep it off, fuck, I hate letting the moms get to me like this.”

Katya smiles, reaches over her wife to turn off the lamp, and then her head is hitting the pillow, too. Their silence lasts a full moment before - 

“Oh shit, sex - ”

“Shh, Trix, it’s okay. I’m pretty beat, too.”

“Okay, thank God.” Trixie sighs into the pillow again and Katya can’t help but .laugh.

“I don’t think either of us are up for face-sitting tonight, mama.”

“Then what were we thinking.”

Katya chuckles and puts an arm around Trixie. As silence finally hangs between them, Katya feels that fucking question banging at the front of her mind. 

_We’re happy, right?_

She always thinks that she’s gonna say it, always resigns herself to it and always chickens out. She doesn’t think she could handle the look in Trixie’s eyes, the indignation and the sadness and the anger it would conjure, realistically doesn’t have the energy to calm her down from that, to kiss it all away.

That’s what she tells herself, at least. In reality, Katya doesn’t think she could handle even the smallest glint of doubt in Trixie’s eyes, couldn’t stand having planted a seed in her that she can’t unsow. Most of all, she doesn’t think she could handle the question being met with indifference - she’s sure that would break her the most.

So she lets the question go unsaid. She holds Trixie tighter lets sleep drown them both.

 

**The Last Day**

Katya wakes up to her normal alarm, watches as Trixie goes undisturbed. She does her yoga, feels the burn and the catharsis and tries to clear her mind. She showers, gets dressed in an outfit she feels oddly confident in, winks at Trixie when she catches her raking her eyes up and down her body.

She makes her special Russian coffee and extra eggs for Trixie, who manages to look at her thankfully and regretfully at the same time.

“I love you so much but I am running so late.” Trixie’s hair is wet and she’s just managed to put a little mascara on her face. She looks dishevelled with her flushed face and and wrinkled blouse, and Katya thinks she’s beautiful.

Trixie manages to shovel a few bites of the eggs in her mouth before giving Katya close-mouthed kiss on the cheek.

“See you tonight, baby!” Katya calls after her, and watches Trixie wave at her as she races out the door, barely remembering her coat.

Katya shakes her head, knows Trixie will make it to work on time and knows she’ll come home dishevelled and exhausted.

Katya, on the other hand, gets to take her time that morning. She doesn’t have to be at the center until a little bit later, so she takes the time to sip at her coffee and scroll through her phone. She feels content in those few moments she has to herself, and gets the feeling it’s going to be a good day.

They’re redoing one of the recreation rooms to make it ADA accessible. So Katya decided to take the opportunity to add some more equipment and have it repainted from its original dull color to something that pops. Most of her morning is spent following around the planner she’s hired, a buff woman who always wear armless shirts and oddly only goes by “Milk.”

Milk is explaining something about the placement of the ramp they’re adding in when Katya’s phone buzzes in her pocket. She’s getting a call from a number she doesn’t recognize, so she puts it on silent and the back in her pocket.

“Sorry about that,” she says. Milk hardly notices, going on and on about the different wood panelling they could use.

If Katya’s honest with herself, she’s only half listening. She cares about the center and its members and the changes it undergoes, but she can’t stop thinking about Trixie’s flushed face that morning, about the look in her eyes as she blatantly checked Katya out. They have a long weekend coming up, and Katya’s thinking about setting up a date night. It’s been a long time since she’s wined and dined her woman, and it’s been even longer since that wining and dining ended in some good old fashioned love making. She’s picturing Trixie wrapped up in bed, waking up from a late sleep, tired from a good fucking, to the breakfast Katya’s made for her. She’s imagining watching her woman eat pancakes in bed, face flushed and eyes content, as Katya waits for her to finish so she can eat her out.

She’s woken from her lazy daydream by the sound of urgent heels clicking on the floor, approaching her.

“And I was thinking here, if we could just get the angle right - ” Milk is cut short when Jinkx appears at their side, holding the landline to her chest.

“What’s up, Jinkx? Could this wait, we’re just about to finish here. Shit, it’s not fucking legal again, is it - I talked to Maggie’s family and we should be fine - ”

“ _Katya._ ” Jinkx’s voice is sharp, and when Katya looks closer, she sees the panic in the woman’s eyes. Jinkx doesn’t panic easily.

“Jinkx, girl, you’re scaring me here.”

Jinkx’s hands are shaking where they grip the phone to her chest, and when she speaks, it’s low like Katya’s never heard before.

“You really gotta take this.”

Katya furrows her brow, taking the phone from the woman in front of her. Out of curiosity, she checks her cell first and feels her eyes go wide. That unknown number has called her about ten times.

Katya swallows something in her throat and tries not to think about anything, refuses to jump to a single goddamn conclusion until that speaker is pressed to her ear.

“Hello, this is Katya Zamolodchikova. How may I help you?”

“Ma’am.” The voice on the other line belongs to a woman who sounds like she’s trying her hardest to stay calm. It’s extremely unsettling. “This is Nurse Bethany, from St. Agnes hospital. You’re listed as the emergency contact for Beatrice Mattel.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She’s probably fine,” Jinkx is saying. “Probably tripped on the sidewalk or hit her head on her guitar. Thorgy probably just insisted she get down to the fucking hospital to make sure everything was alright out of pure paranoia. We’ll get in there and she’ll probably be just as anxious to leave as we are.”
> 
> Katya is silent, tries to ignore how her whole body is thrumming. She focuses on the smoke, and doesn’t let herself think.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello!! first of all I wanna say that I'm SO overwhelmed with the support I've gotten for this fic - if you so much as left a one-sentence comment it completely made my day. I love these girls so much and the fact that you love them too makes makes my heart feel like it's being filled with beanie babies.
> 
> also remember when I was like 'oh other chapters will be shorter and more plot driven blah blah' yeah ok so looks like they're all gonna be long. also this gets heavy so if u can stick with it I'll bake u a vegan pie or something else full of my love. also, for all due purposes, this story is set in 2012.
> 
> let me know what you think, and enjoy! <3

Katya’s smoking her first cigarette in two years.

She quit just in time for the wedding. And after the first withdrawal passes, and then the second and then the third and then the tenth, she finds that she doesn’t miss the nicotine anymore, but god she misses the smoke breaks. She especially misses them at times like these, when she and Jinkx show up at St. Agnes’ - after the hospital has been trying to get a hold of Katya all morning - just to be told they’re gonna have to wait. Katya finds herself instinctually heading to the smokers section before she can think twice, and isn’t surprised to find Jinkx has trailing after her.

“I won’t tell Trixie if you don’t tell Dela,” Jinkx says, handing her a cig that’s immediately accompanied by a light. Katya thinks that Trixie will smell the smoke on her breath and roll her eyes. Hopefully that breakfast in bed will make it up to her.

Katya focuses on the familiar burn of the smoke in her lungs so that she doesn’t have to think about the fact that she’s waiting outside a hospital because of something that’s happened to Trixie. She wants to be angry that they didn’t tell her anything over the phone, but it’s also not like she gave them much of a chance, asking for the address, telling them she’ll be there right away, and then hanging up. Jinkx was on her heels without Katya even having to ask.

“She’s probably fine,” Jinkx is saying. “Probably tripped on the sidewalk or hit her head on her guitar. Thorgy probably just insisted she get down to the fucking hospital to make sure everything was alright out of pure paranoia. We’ll get in there and she’ll probably be just as anxious to leave as we are.”

Katya is silent, tries to ignore how her whole body is thrumming. She focuses on the smoke, and doesn’t let herself think.

“Mrs. Zamolo…”

“Here,” Katya puts the poor nurse out of her misery. The young woman has her head sticking out the door, and she looks relieved to find Katya there. Katya puts out her cigarette and doesn’t feel bad about smashing the blunt with her shoe, practically charges past the nurse into the waiting room.

The nurse apologetically tells Jinkx that it’s family only past this point, and then Katya’s on her heels, following her down the hallway. They walk past tons of patient rooms, and just when Katya’s about to burst into a random one with the hope of it being Trixie’s, they stop in front of something that is definitely not a patient room.

“Dr. Klein wanted to talk to you - ”

“Where is my wife.” Katya tries her best not to say it through her teeth, but she can still feel how it’s dripping with tension. 

“Um...ma’am, I’m sorry, I was told you bring you to Dr.-” The young girl is cut off when the door to the room they’ve stopped in front of opens, and a man in a white coat is standing between them.

“I’ll take it from here, Bethany, thank you.”

The girl nods and makes her way down the hallway, and then the man is asking Katya to step into his office.

“Miss Zamolodchikova, if you could take a seat please -”

“Where the hell is my wife.” Katya enters the room, but doesn’t move any closer to the chair across from Dr. Klein’s desk. She’s got her hands balled into fists, and every nervous movement the man makes sends her up the wall. “You call me in the middle of the day, you ask me to leave my place of work, and then you make me wait twenty minutes before seeing me, and still not a single person has told me what the hell is wrong with the person I was called down here to see. Now, I would really appreciate you answering my question. Where. The hell. Is my wife, Doctor.”

Somewhere in the back of her mind, she’s aware of how she sounds. But the rest of her is occupied with making sure she doesn’t flip this man’s desk.

“Ma’am, I would be happy to answer that question, as well as any others you may have for me. But I’m going to have to ask you to take a seat. Please.” If there was a hint of patronization in his tone, Katya would have really considered flipping that desk. But the man is obviously trying very hard to be professional and civil. So Katya takes the fucking seat.

“Your wife, Beatrice Mattel?” Trixie. “Was in an accident this morning.” He pauses, like he’s letting it sink in. 

“Okay.”

“A car accident. She was in a taxi when someone ran a red light at an intersection.” Katya feels her jaw grind against itself and hears her heart thumping in her chest. She doesn’t let herself think anything. “She’s alive. But she -”

“What room is she in?”

“Room 104, but I would - Miss Zamolodchikova -”

Katya’s out of that fucking office before the man can say another word to her, hunting for room 104. She’s vaguely aware of the doctor following close behind her, but she doesn’t care. She needs to find Trixie.

What kind of fucking game are they playing here, leading me into a separate room, making me think I could lost my fucking - she doesn’t even want to think about that. She refuses to think about that. Trixie is alive, and right now Katya isn’t next to her, and that’s all that matters.

She finally finds Room 104, and she’s pushing it open as she hears Dr. Klein in her ear.

“Ma’am, I have to caution you, your wife lost a great deal of blood - ”

Katya doesn’t know what she was expecting. Fuck, she wasn’t letting herself think anything at all. So when she sees Trixie laid out on that white bed, covered in a hospital gown and about 19 bruises on her face, she nearly loses her balance.

“Jesus,” she hears herself say. She feels the steadying arms of what must be some kind nurses, and then she’s being lowered down into a chair propped up at Trixie’s bedside.

Baby, Katya thinks, trailing her eyes over Trixie’s unconscious frame. Sweet girl. She’s pale as a sheet and now that Katya’s closer, she sees that the bruises are deep and bright.

“Miss Zamolodchikova.” Dr. Klein has pulled up another chair and he’s sat beside her. His voice is even softer and calmer than before. “Your wife sustained some serious head injuries and she’s lost a significant amount of blood. I’m afraid…” Katya doesn’t want to rip her gaze from her sleeping wife - that’s what she is, she’s sleeping, nothing more - but the doctor’s pause makes her look up at him. His eyes are soft and his lips are tightly drawn together. “...I’m afraid she’s slipped into a coma.”

***

The rest of that day acts as a testament to the support system that Katya and Trixie have built around them.

At some point, Jinkx comes in to make Katya eat something, and informs her that Alaska has been managing things down at the center since they both took off. Meanwhile, Thorgy has taken up Trixie’s duties down at the studio, finishing up that arrangement for Melissa and effectively telling the mom to fuck off. When Jinkx leaves to help out at the center, Bob is immediately by her side, telling her anecdotes about the other girls he works with, and pretty soon, Kim is there too, bitching about her makeup clients. When a couple of nurses ask Katya about pressing charges against the driver who ran the red light, Bob cheerily gives them Alaska’s number, saying she’ll handle anything with legal, and Katya almost laughs. 

They have good friends, and Katya thinks that she’ll have to thank them. But right now, she can’t take her eyes off Trixie.

Katya hasn’t left that fucking chair since she plopped down in it hours ago. Nurses and have come in and out as their shifts have changed, and Dr. Klein has popped in once more. But Katya’s stayed put. 

To say that she hasn’t spoke since she heard the word “coma” would be an exaggeration. She’s mumbled ‘thanks’ as food was handed to her, said hello to Bob and goodbye to Jinkx, thanked the nurses as they came in performing tasks she doesn’t understand. She hears Jinkx mumbling something to Bob about ‘going into shock’ and she wants to laugh. 

She’s not in shock - she’s totally calm. People come out of comas, that’s what they do.

Or they don’t. 

She’s seen Rocky II, thinks about the scene where Adrian comes out of a coma and Rocky’s there petting her face as she smiles up at him. She remembers him pacing the chapel beneath the hospital, thinking she’s not going to come out of the coma, until she does, she does, and they go and start their family. 

Trixie’s stronger than that little Italian girl, anyway, Katya thinks. She’s from the midwest, she can handle anything. 

In Katya’s mind, she’s been gossiping along with Bob and Kim all day, cracking jokes to Jinkx about how this scare is nothing compared to when they talked about having kids. But every time Katya tries to open her mouth, she feels something ugly threatening to pour out of it. So she keeps quiet and strokes Trixie’s hand. She doesn’t think about how cold it feels.

“Ma’am, visiting hours are over.”

The words tap at Katya’s skull, but she doesn’t fully comprehend them. She looks up to see a nurse nervously looking back and forth between Katya, Bob, and Kim.

“Wha...what do you mean.”

“Visiting hours end at 9pm and resume at 9am the next day.”

‘Visiting hours - what are you talking about, this is my wife, I need to stay with my wife-”

Katya can feel Bob’s hand on her shoulder, hears Kim talking calmly to the nurse.

“We’ll take her home, don’t worry.”

“What…” Katya feels Bob standing up beside her, feels him try to take Katya along with him. “No,” she hears herself say. “No, no, no, no, that’s my - that’s Trixie, I can’t leave Trixie…” 

She feels herself being guided up from her seat, out of the room, out of the hospital, and then finally into Bob’s car where she and Kim are huddled together in the back seat. She makes it past the nurses, past the friends and family members sitting anxious in the waiting room, past the other people walking tiredly to their cars. She made it the whole fucking day. But as soon as she sits down and Bob cranes his next around, asks a quick, “You good, girl?” she loses it.

Katya feels the sobs rip out of her before she’s aware of tears on her cheeks. Kim’s holding on to her and Bob is gripping her hand.

“It’s ok, Kat,” she hears Kim say. “She’s gonna be okay.”

“She’s so fucking strong, Katya, you know this can’t go on for too long.” Katya just nods and cries and doesn’t think about Trixie lying there on the hospital bed, about the paleness in her honey skin.

Bob drives Katya to his house that night and she sleeps in the guest room with Kim. They make sure she eats dinner and calm her down and brush her hair.

“People come out of comas,” Katya says quietly, once she’s lying in bed facing Kim.

“They do,” Kim agrees. “Trixie will be fine and this will all be over soon and we’ll joke about it at one of Bob’s shows.”

Katya nods, can’t say anything else. There’s another long weekend coming up soon, and she feels a spark of hope, thinking maybe Trixie will be up and at it by then. She has to, Katya thinks. I owe her that breakfast in bed. 

**Six Months After**

Katya stops at what’s become her favorite flower stand and picks out a bouquet of daisies. The owner, Luis, tells her they’re good flowers for the beginning of Spring, and Katya thinks he’s right.

She’s got her flowers in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other as she walks through the glass doors that have become achingly familiar.

“Morning, Rosa.” Katya says it with a little smile and sets the cup of coffee down on the front desk.

“Oh, Katya.” The older woman looks up at her, and Katya sees the ring of darkness around her eyes. Friday nights Rosa gets the graveyard shift, so Katya’s taken to bringing her a cup of coffee on Saturday mornings. “You’re too sweet, like always.”

“And it’s no problem, like always. Ooh, I like the blue nail polish, it brings out your eyes.”

Katya bounces off to Room 104, smiling past the nurses she recognizes and politely nodding to the ones she doesn’t.

“Hey baby,” Katya says once she’s opened the doors. “I thought these were getting kind of rotted, so I brought you new ones.” Katya takes the old flowers sitting in her mother’s vase that’s taken up a permanent residence beside the hospital bed and swaps them out with the fresh daisies. “Mm, that’s better. The man at the stand said they’d be good for Spring. I think he’s right, but I’m no _botanist,_ baby, just as busted old witch trying to run a women’s only paradise.”

Katya takes a seat. It’s the same one she plopped down in all those months ago, when Doctor Klein said that fucking word and Katya realized she couldn’t stand up anymore. It feels so long ago that Katya first laid eyes on her wife’s unconscious frame, first saw her sleeping here. Katya knows she’s not sleeping, but Doctor Klein and the nurses had explained what exactly was going on in Trixie’s body and mind to her a while back, and half of it didn’t make sense to her, while the other half she felt too nauseous to listen to. So for all due purposes, Trixie was sleeping.

“It’s a really pretty day out.” Katya takes Trixie’s hand in hers and strokes it with her thumb. She doesn’t hold Trixie’s hand often when she’s like this, and it struck her awhile back that in every movie she’d seen where there’s a couple in the same position as theirs, the one in Katya’s position is constantly holding the other’s hand. But Trixie’s hand is cold and limp, and on most days, the fact that her delicate fingers don’t instantly curl around Katya’s is enough to make her sick. But today she’s feeling cheery, and she wants to hold her wife’s fucking hand.

“You should get up to see it, baby. The sun’s shining and the grime on the sidewalk just smells like human puke instead of the excraments of some sewer animal.” She wonders if Trixie would laugh at that, or roll her eyes. It’s been a long time since Katya’s heard her laugh. Actually, now that she thinks about it, it’s been a long time since she’s seen Trixie’s eyes.

“Well, anyway, I’m just gonna sit here and read until you decide you’re done being stubborn. Then we can go and have our day in the park, dolly.”

Katya knows that there are younger nurses who hear how she talks to Trixie and look at her nervously, or wonder if Katya should be in one of these rooms herself. But Katya doesn’t pay them any attention. 

It’s Saturday, so Katya spends the whole day at Trixie’s side. At first, that’s how it always was. After that first night at Bob’s house, Katya was getting everyone up at the crack of dawn so they could be right on time for visiting hours, only to spend the whole 12 hours staring at Trixie in a numb daze, willing her to wake up. I just need to be with her, she’d think. I need to be here so she feels me, so she knows she not alone. 

After a few weeks, it started to get better. Katya was spending more time at work and less time in the bathroom trying to ward off panic attacks. She was still at Trixie’s side the second she was done at the center, but she wasn’t being dragged away by friends and nurses when visiting hours came to a close.

By now, she’s spending full days at work, and she visits Trixie in the evening. Her therapist doesn’t know that she spends the entirety of her weekends in this chair, reading or checking her phone or talking to her sleeping wife, and Katya doesn’t tell her that the first time she tries to spend a Saturday at home, she has a hard time breathing and is at Trixie’s side by noon.

“Our moms are flying in tomorrow,” Katya says at some point in the afternoon. She’s finished her book and she’s just eaten lunch from the Thai place down the street. Now she’s working on her second cup of coffee, which she drinks every afternoon like clockwork. Her therapist doesn’t know about that, either.

“It’s gonna be good to see Mama. I’ll have to show her that Russian coffee you got me...that was so sweet, Trix.” Katya’s shown her mom the coffee, shown it to her so many times she’s lost count. She keeps it on the counter where she first found it, with Trixie’s little note in tact.

“And your mom - well, I’m glad we get along so well now. Remember when we first met and she thought I was some city dyke corrupting her sweet little daughter? Thank god for that one Christmas we hunkered down to Wisconsin for the winter. You know, I really think it was that trip that swayed her. I know you say it was your birthday before that when I got you the blanket that looked like the ones her mom used to make, but I really think it was that Christmas.”

Katya’s birthday is coming up, and her friends and family have taken to using every psuedo holiday as an opportunity to suffocate Katya with affection. She loves them - she does. And she appreciates what they’re trying to do. But she doesn’t miss the way they give each other uncomfortable side-eyes when she brings up Trixie or mentions going down to the hospital.

“I’ve gotta get going a little early tonight, baby. Alaska’s coming over and we’re gonna watch the Sex in the City movie.” Earlier that week, Alaska had come marching into Katya’s office to announce that they were having a movie night that Saturday. I know you don’t have any other plans, she’d said before Katya could argue. It should have stung, but Katya knows Alaska’s right, and knows that laughing at Carrie Bradhsaw with your friend is healthier than crying about Laura Palmer alone. “You should be there, Trix, we’re even gonna drink that sparkling apple cider you like.”

This is when Katya stops, and this is how she knows she’s not going crazy. There were times, near the beginning, when Katya found herself wishing Trixie’s presence into every minute aspect of her life until she was a heaping mess, curled into a ball that had to be gradually taken apart. Early on, Katya could barely make toast in the morning without getting teary-eyed at the fact that Trixie wasn’t across the apartment, asking for an extra piece. In those days, being surrounded by people made her feel loneliest of all. She vividly and painfully remembers one night when Kim, Bob, Jinkx and Dela had all taken her out for drinks and a movie. Being around that many of her friends just made it feel like it should be even easier to turn around and find Trixie there, locate her laugh in the conglomeration of sound, reach for her hand in the cloud of bodies as they walked down the street.

So Katya doesn’t wish Trixie into her mornings anymore, or her lunch breaks at work or her Saturday nights. She knows the danger in that, can feel it pooling hot in her eyes.

When Katya leaves the hospital that night she plants a small kiss on Trixie’s forehead and swipes a thumb across her cheek, then tells her the same thing she’s said every day since that first day.

“Wake up for me baby. I don’t wanna be alone anymore.”

On her way out, she bumps into a burly woman in nurse scrubs who’s obviously heading to Trixie’s room.

“Daria,” Katya smiles. The older Russian woman was her favorite nurse here, and Katya felt safest when she knew that Trixie was in her hands.

“Katya, hi. Are you just heading out?”

“Yup. Just put in new flowers for the missus.”

“Well thank goodness, those old ones were just about wasting away.” Daria has a twinkle in her eye when she talks to Katya that isn’t there for most other people. Katya thinks it has a little bit to do with her Russianness, which she made clear on Daria’s first day by greeting her in the mother language. But Daria’s got a wife at home, and Katya sometimes wonders if there’s some sympathy from that, too.

“Well, good night,” Katya says. “Take care of my lady.”

“I will. And Katya? You’re a sweet girl. I hope that when that woman in there wakes up, she appreciates what she’s got.”

Katya smiles, gives Daria a little nod. She turns to walk out because she doesn’t trust herself to speak.

Alaska arrives a little bit later with dinner and a bottle of the sparkling apple cider. Katya’s taken to drinking Martinelli’s since she’s distanced herself from alcohol. One nasty night spent in tears and wine and a bed that felt especially empty was enough for Katya to decide that out of all the unhealthy coping mechanisms she’s adopted, drinking her sadness away will not be one of them.

“Happy Saturday, whore,” Alaska drawls out as she sets the food on the kitchen counter. The apple cider is set down immediately after. “Looks like we’re gonna have a wild one tonight, huh?”

Alaska starts telling Katya about this new girl she’s dating, Willam, and Katya listens to her go on about their date last weekend, the one they’re going on tomorrow, what she’s gonna wear and how she’s gonna do her makeup. They’re only half listening to the movie.

Near the end, Alaska trails off, and Katya’s given all the input she can manage. They watch the last few minutes of Carrie Bradshaw dealing with whatever crisis she’s going through at the moment, and Katya sips at her apple cider.

“I know you wanna say it.” Alaska’s sentence shocks Katya out of her stupor.

“Hm? What’s that?” 

Alaska’s looking at her intently, and Katya thinks that she knows that look, has grown increasingly accustomed to it over the past six months.

“That Trixie should be here.” Alaska says it not unkindly, but it’s enough to tip Katya over the edge.

“You know, the thing is, I’m actually trying really fucking hard not to think about that, thanks.” She grabs their plates off the couch so she has something to do with her hands, and then she’s walking into the kitchen. Alaska follows her.

“Katya.”

“You know, I know you all mean the best, but I really do not need another lecture about how I’m too attached to Trixie, how I’m holding on to Trixie, how I’m living in some kind of delusion - ”

“What did you do today.” Again, Alaska’s voice isn’t unkind, but it’s firm. Her gaze is hard and it makes Katya freeze where she’s started to wash their dishes.

“I finished my book and went over some of the financial paperwork for the center.”

“Where.” Katya lets out a sigh, meets Alaska’s gaze head on. The next time she speaks, it’s softer. “Where did you finish your book and look over paperwork today, Katya.”

“Are you gonna make me say it?”

Alaska’s shoulders slump.

“What? What is so bad about going to visit my wife in the hospital -”

“There’s nothing wrong with going to visit her, but you’re practically living there, Katya. We’re all worried about you.”

“Okay, so what do you recommend I do? Go out more, with you or Bob or Thorgy, so I can be asked about Trixie and told things about Trixie and get looked at like a fucking crazy person for hoping that my wife doesn’t wake up from her coma without me there next to her?”

“Trixie is not going to wake-”

Alaska stops dead and there’s a change in her eyes. She realizes what she’s said and it spreads all over her face. 

Katya, on the other hand, is gripping the counter so hard that her knuckles have turned white.

“Finish that sentence.”

Alaska pauses.

“Trixie is not going to wake up without you there.”

Katya rolls her eyes.

“That is not what you were going to say.”

“Well what do you want me to say, Katya? That it’s healthy to spend most of your time in a hospital with someone who can’t even talk to you?”

“Stop.”

“That your friends and family miss you, are so worried about you that your mom and Trixie’s are flying into New York just for your birthday?”

“Stop - stop talking.”

“That your income has been cut in half for six months, and now your bank account is being squeezed dry by keep your insurance company for keeping Trixie on support for so long -”

“ _Alaska._ ”

Katya wouldn’t call it a scream, but it was something pretty close to one. She’s gripping the counter so hard now that she can’t feel her knuckles, and she feels a hot stream of salt water on her cheek.

“ _Please._ ” Katya hears how raw and cracked her voice sounds. Alaska must hear it too, because then she’s by Katya’s side, rubbing her back and patting her cheek with tissues.

“Kat,” she coos. “We’re coming up on six months since the accident. You can’t keep going like this.” _Emotionally_ and _financially,_ Katya thinks darkly.

“I don’t….I don’t know what to do.” Maybe saying it out loud should have been a weight off her chest, but it only breaks her more. “I don’t know, Lasky, I don’t wanna - I can’t do this alone.” Alaska wraps her wiry arms around Katya’s shoulders. It’s comforting, but it’s not the embrace she wants. 

“You’re not alone,” Alaska says into her hair. “You’ve got a fuckton of people who love you, Kat. You won’t be alone. You never have been.”

“I miss her.”

She feels stupid saying it, but it’s all she can manage.

“I know,” Alaska says. “And you’re gonna keep missing her, mama. But it might be time to let go.”

Alaska tries to insist upon staying over that night, but Katya tells her that she needs to be alone. When she lies in bed that night, she indulges in what her therapist would call one of her unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Curled up around the covers, she looks at Trixie’s side of the bed and thinks about all the things they took for granted. She can’t believe that six months ago, curled around Trixie in this bed, she had the gall to wonder _if they were happy._ She would give anything to go back to a time when the biggest thing they had to stress over was the last time they’d had sex, when the thing Katya was angriest about was the fact that Trixie forgot to pick up coffee from the grocery store.

Katya thinks about Trixie waking up, imagines all the breakfasts in bed she’s going to make for her. She thinks about the expensive wine she’d treat them both to, thinks that she’d sit through the Scream movies again, or a whole season of Buffy, just because it would make Trixie smile. She’s been thinking a lot about the things she’ll do for Trixie when she gets to talk to her again, to exist beside her outside of that hospital. It’s another thing her therapist insists is unhealthy, and Katya has been good at avoiding it. But this is a bad night. So curled up in the darkness, Katya thinks that Trixie could ask her for the moon and she’d find a way to hang it on a string.

 **One Year Before**

Katya’s been trying to avoid “the talk about kids” for awhile now.

She’s spent years trying to make it irrevocably clear to Trixie that she has not, does not, and will never want kids. It’s one of the disadvantages, she thinks, of growing into adulthood with the same romantic partner throughout. It’s not a fourth or seventh date kind of talk, it’s something you’re just expected to know about each other. And as many times as Katya’s dropped lines like “God I can’t wait to never have kids” or “happy that’ll never be me” when they pass mothers with annoying kids in public, she’s not sure if Trixie knows she’s serious.

And as time goes on, Katya starts to fear that Trixie might want to be a mom as much as Katya doesn’t. And then one day Trixie starts babysitting, and the talk is pretty much inevitable.

Trixie’s been watching their friend Latrice’s six-month-old daughter for the past few weeks.

“It’s totally temporary,” Trixie insists. “She and her husband’s jobs are both shifting around so much right now and her maternity leave just let up. What am I supposed to do, let the kid watch itself?” 

_Tell Latrice to call a daycare,_ Katya doesn’t say. It’s a fight she’s too tired to have right now.

It’s been fine so far, even if Trixie does come home from Latrice’s doting over the baby’s fat cheeks and tiny toes. It wears off after awhile, when she sees that Katya doesn’t have the same response, which is to coo over especially small body parts. And then one day, Katya comes home to her wife holding a crying baby in her arms.

“Shit, I don’t have enough arms - oh, Kat, thank god.” Katya’s frozen in the doorway, still in shock at the sight of her wife. With a baby. 

“What is she...why is she at our -”

“Katya, babe, I’m so sorry - can you hold her for just two seconds? I need to get the bottle from the fridge and I don’t have enough hands and if I set her down the crying just gets louder.”

Katya hasn’t said anything - hasn’t agreed to anything - and then Trixie is placing this baby in her arms, showing her how to support the head.

“Here, just - just rock her back and forth for like two seconds. Thank babe, I’ll be right back.”

And then Katya is standing there holding a fucking baby. The little thing is screaming for the first few seconds, and Katya is consumed with how the fuck do I stop this. She tries rocking back and forth, bouncing on the balls of her feet, like she’s seen her mother do with Katya’s younger cousins.

And then, magically, the crying stops.

“Oh thank fuck,” Katya says. “Shit, you can’t understand English yet, can you?” Katya looks down at the tiny human, who’s looking at Katya like she’s the first woman the kid has ever seen. “Uh. Hi.” _Trixie, where the fuck are you._

Then the baby is making a reach for her hair, and Katya’s putting her foot down.

“ _Oh_ no you don’t - _Trixie!_ It has been _more_ that two seconds!”

Trixie is bouncing back into the room with a little bottle in her hand, and then miraculously, she’s taking the tiny thing away from Katya.

“Oh my gosh, you got her to stop crying, you’re a natural,” Trixie says. “It took me weeks to get her to stop without a bottle.”

“Trixie.”

Katya tries to sound stern, but Trixie’s attention seems to be wholly centered on cradling this small human, feeding her that fucking bottle and cooing nonsense at her.

“ _Trixie_. Why is she - here. In our home.” _In our Manhattan apartment that we pay a lot of money for and need our safety deposit back for at some point._

“Oh, I thought I would watch her here today! Sorry, I could have sworn you were getting home later.” Katya always got home at this time.

She knows exactly what Trixie’s doing, and it scares her. It’s Katya’s breaking point, and it’s the final proof that they need to have the talk. 

That night, long after Latrice has picked up baby Patty, Trixie and Katya are settled in front of the TV and Trixie’s got her feet in Katya’s lap.

“You know, I think you were really good with Patty today,” Trixie’s saying, and Katya knows it’s now or never. “You could get her to stop crying right away and you were really good at supporting the head -”

“Trixie.” Trixie’s looking at her innocently, but Katya sees through her, holds her gaze firmly. “I know what you’re trying to do here.” Trixie’s still looking at her with wide eyes, and she tilts her head. When Katya speaks, she does it firmly and holds Trixie’s gaze. “I need you to understand that I am never going to want to have kids.”

There’s a visible change in Trixie’s face and it makes something in Katya’s chest twitch. It just lasts a second and then it’s gone, but Katya definitely saw it.

But then Trixie is shrugging and moving to put her head in Katya’s lap.

“I don’t know, I just-”

Katya takes Trixie gently by the shoulders and stops her, holding her gaze.

“Trixie. I think we should talk about this.”

Trixie lets out a sigh, and she settle beside Katya. The fake-innocence is gone.

“Okay, yeah, let’s talk about it. Why are you so opposed to having kids?”

“Trixie, I’d be a horrible mother.”

“And why do you think that?”

“I - why wouldn’t I think that?” Trixie’s face says it’s not enough. “Okay, well, to start, I’m super busy with work.”

“You work at a woman’s center with a staff that loves us like family.”

“Okay, well, I’m obsessive and I need things to be a certain way. Can you imagine the hurricane a kid would cause in an apartment like this?”

“You say obsessive, I say meticulous. It’s good to be as organized as you are, and last time I checked, you don’t kick me out every time I leave dirty clothes on the floor.”

“Trixie, I don’t like kids.” That makes Trixie go still. Katya waits for her to counter, and she just sits there. “I don’t like kids and I don’t want them. As your wife, I’m asking for that to be enough.”

Trixie looks like she’s just gotten the wind knocked out of her. She’s visibly trying to put on a face that says I’m okay and her features strain with the effort. 

“Okay,” Trixie says quietly. “Then as your wife, I accept that.”

Trixie puts her head in Katya’s lap but the energy in the room is tense. Katya wonders if Trixie’s done it just so Katya doesn’t have to see the look on her face.

That night in bed, they’re lying side by side facing away from each other. Katya decides that she hates it.

“Trixie,” she says, turning over. She can feel that she’s still awake. “Come here.”

Trixie turns to face her, and even in the dark, Katya can see that her eyes are red. Shit. 

Katya wraps her arms around her woman, holds her close to her chest and hooks her chin over Trixie’s head.

“I love you,” Katya says. It’s quiet, but it pierces the silence around them.

“I love you too,” Trixie says. “But this is the kind of thing couples end marriages over.”

Katya tightens her arms around Trixie, holds her impossibly closer.

“You thinking about up and leaving me, mama?” Katya means it as a joke, but she winces as she hears her voice shake.

“No,” Trixie says. “But I need to make sure that we’re okay.”

“You’re enough for me, Trix,” Katya says. “I need you to know that. I don’t need a baby around, but I need that to be enough for you, too.”

Trixie pauses. It’s probably only a few seconds, but Katya feels it stretch it out before her eyes.

“Of course it is, Kat.” Katya feels herself let out a sigh of relief. “We’ll always be enough.”

**Present Day**

It’s one of the bad days.

It’s one of the worst ones Katya’s had in awhile, and Katya’s mom and Trixie’s mom are both here and Katya’s 29, and all Katya can think as she holds Trixie’s limp hand in hers is that a baby wouldn’t have been all that bad. She wishes she could go back to a time when having a screaming infant who pooped and peed and needed to be fed every two hours seemed like the worst thing in the world.

 _It wouldn’t have been the worst,_ Katya thinks as she looks at Trixie’s blond little eyelashes spread out against her cheeks. She looks away. If she stares long enough, she’ll start to imagine them flickering with movement, and that’s the worst thing she can do.

“I think I would have had kids for you, Trix,” Katya says. “Is that enough to wake you up? If I promise to knock you up once you’re conscious, could you march out of here tomorrow?”

Katya’s birthday had been going pretty much how she’d expected it to. She started the day with picking up her mom and Trixie’s from the airport. She hugged them both, talked to them about the women’s center on the way to the apartment and listened to them talk about their husbands and the drama in town that middle aged women wiggle their ways into.

Back at the apartment, Thorgy, Bob, Kim, Jinkx, Dela, Alaska and her date, Willam, were waiting. There were so many people there, so many that she loved. But there was one missing, and Katya felt it in her bones. She hadn’t been to the hospital all day.

“Katya.” Her mom approaches her around the time that dinner’s being served. People are scattered throughout the apartment, huddled into side conversations. Katya’s alone on the couch sipping apple cider. 

“Hi Mama,” she says. “Sorry, I’m kind of out of it today.”

“You wish Trixie were here.” She says it quietly, and if it were anyone but her mom Katya would have ended the conversation. Instead she nods. “That’s okay. She _should_ be here.”

“I miss her, Mama.” She feels so pathetic saying it, so obvious. But it’s all she can manage.

“I know, Yekaterina. You deserve to miss her. It’s just...it’s been so long…”

Katya knows that look, that tone of voice. She’s about to get another lecture on how unhealthy she’s being, about the benefits of taking Trixie off…

She can’t even think it.

“I’m gonna get some air, Mama.”

She hears her mother protesting, but she’s already getting up, mumbling about how she misses her smoke breaks.

 _I’m just gonna step outside. Just outside the apartment, that’s all. I gotta feel the night air on my face._ She’s at the hospital in an hour.

And then she’s holding Trixie’s hand and she’s doing one of the unhealthy things.

“You’ve gotta wake up, baby,” she hears herself say. The familiar sound of the monitor beeps steadily a few feet away, and the sterile fabric of the hospital bed scrapes Katya’s elbows. The daisies she picked out today are already drooping at Trixie’s side, and Katya thinks about how much she hates this place.

“It’s my birthday, Trix, you gotta...who’s gonna tell me I’m spending too much time at the center, huh? Who’s gonna remind me to make time for yoga when I’m bitching about how sore I am? Who’s gonna separate our whites from our darks when we’re doing laundry because I forget, I _always_ forget? Who’s gonna hold my hand when we’re with too many people and I’m getting anxious, or butcher those three Russian phrases I taught you just to make me laugh?” Katya keeps thinking she’ll run out of tears, that at some point, it’ll be too much. But it seems like she’s wrong, because she’s got two hot streams of salting meandering down her cheek. “Trixie, baby, who’s gonna grow old with me-”

“Yekaterina.”

She shouldn’t be surprised to see her mother in the doorway. She shouldn’t be surprised to see that look in her eye or hear that tone of voice, but it still shocks her and she looks up, startled.

“Hey, Mama. I know, I know, this is ridiculous. We can go back to the apartment in the few minutes, just give me a few-”

“No, Yekaterina.” Her mother’s eyes are hard. “We’ve gotta talk. Now.”

***

An hour later, everyone save for Alaska and Katya’s mother have cleared out of the apartment. Katya’s sitting at her kitchen counter with Alaska on one side and her mother on the other, and they’ve got six months’ worth of bank statements and bills are spread out before her. 

“Yekaterina, I didn’t realize it was this bad,” her mom says. Katya’s got her head in her hands. It’s one of those moments when she’s regretting not keeping any alcohol in the apartment.

“This isn’t even half of it,” Alaska says. Ever since the accident, Bob and Alaska had volunteered to overlook “some of” Katya and Trixie’s finances. It had turned into the two of them becoming Katya’s personal financial advisors.

“With the medical bills…” Alaska is saying. “Kat. You’re gonna lose the apartment.”

Katya’s shaking her head, thinks it feels heavy in her hands.

“No. No, there has to be a way. There has to be more money somewhere, from someone.”

“ _Katya,_ there is literally. No more money,” Alaska says.

“We’ll start a fucking gofundme, then.”

“Expecting people to donate to a successful business owner and music producer? I don’t think so.”

“Well there has to be - there’s something we’re missing, there’s something we can do-”

“Yekaterina, sweetie. Stop.” Her mom puts a hand on her shoulder.

“For the past few months, Bob and I have literally been over every bit of your and Trixie’s financial history. Every bill, every expenditure, every savings account. You are either about to go into a debt that you will not recover from, or…” Alaska’s voice trails off.

“Yekaterina,” her mom’s voice is soft. “It’s time to let go.”

***

They’ve agreed to give her one more day. 

Katya’s got one more day of sitting next to her unconscious wife. Her wife who’s _in a coma,_ who’s been in a coma for six months and probably isn’t coming out of it.

Katya’s thought of her as ‘sleeping’ for so long and she’s done, done with all of it, feels stupid for letting her turn into what she’s become.

 _You shouldn’t feel stupid,_ she can practically hear Trixie in her ear. She briefly wonders if she’ll start to feel Trixie with her, start talking to her dead wife. If Katya’s friends and family think this will take her any farther from the coo-coo house they seem to think she’s headed toward, they’re wrong, she thinks grimly.

Katya brings her roses that day, red and pink. She sticks them in with daisies, thinks the vase is getting crowded, but it doesn’t matter.

“It’s my last day bringing you flowers, baby.” Katya takes Trixie’s hand in hers, thinks she can will the fingers back to life. “Might as well bring your favorite.”

They’ve decided to pull the life support at the beginning of the following day. That means that Katya spends the next twelve hours basically hosting her own personal wake. Word travels fast among New York lesbians, Katya assumes, because it feels like everyone she and Trixie are even remotely connected to pops in.

Thorgy brings her vegan brownies, then immediately starts apologizing, saying she doesn’t know why she did that.

“Stop, Thorgy, it was sweet,” Katya insists. “Thank you.” She’s holding Trixie’s hand as she says it, and feels silly, like she’s speaking for the both of them.

Dela cries when she comes in with Jinkx, then goes on for about twenty minutes about all the annoying clients they used to have at the makeup counter.

“It’s just...it’s not fair,” she chokes out. “Trixie is so young and so sweet, she’s so sweet, Katya, isn’t she?” Katya doesn’t say anything, can’t. Jinkx just apologizes, gives Katya a long, suffocating hug, and takes Dela out.

Alaska is one of the last to visit, and hers is one of the easiest.

“I’m really shit at all this sentimental stuff,” she admits. “And I’m not gonna talk about how this sucks or how it’s unfair, because you already know that, and you don’t need to hear it from me. But anything you need, you tell me. You call me first, and whatever hour of the night it is, I’ll pick up. And I’ll be there. Okay Kat? That’s my gift to you. I didn’t bake fucking brownies or anything, but I can give you that.” Katya nods, and thinks it’s the best thing she’s heard all day. She’ll have to let Alaska know, when she can speak again without feeling her voice crumble.

Bob and Kim stay the longest and say the least. They both just care about being with Trixie one last time, which Katya can appreciate. They also look like their vocal chords are about in the same condition as Katya’s.

Katya’s mom and Trixie’s mom are in and out of the room all day. Trixie’s family has always been tough and stubborn, and Pam Mattel is no exception. She’s stone faced and looks more angry than sad. Pam looks like she could punch something easier than get ready to mourn.

Katya’s mom is there with a hand on her shoulder when she needs it and a box of food when she’s forgotten to eat. She doesn’t say much to Katya, but there’s not much that she can say. There isn’t much that Katya wants to hear.

Throughout the day, Katya takes the time to study Trixie’s features. The harsh bruises that had covered her face immediately following the accident are long gone, but Trixie’s complexion hasn’t quite returned to its original glow. Any semblance of a tan she had has obviously faded, and the cheeks that are usually rosy and glowing are pale and devoid of expression.

But Trixie’s plump lips are the same and she still has that constellation of freckles spread out across her nose and cheeks. Her eyelashes are blonde and curled, and they rest delicately above her cheekbones. Katya studies her nose, her brow, her jaw, thinking that if she can memorize them, she can keep a piece of Trixie with her. It’s silly to think that Katya will forget what she looks like, what with the abundance of photos and videos she has of her. But the reality of never seeing her in person again is setting in. _Be honest, Katya, you haven’t seen her in a long while now._ She wonders if that’s Trixie in her head, if a piece of her has already left the body laid out on that hospital bed.

The sun has gone down and Katya’s gripping Trixie’s limp hand, knowing what needs to happen but dreading it all the same.

Trixie’s mom has been pretty quiet throughout the day, but near the end, she awkwardly clears her throat.

“Mind if I uh...have a moment?”

Katya doesn’t understand what she’s asking until her own mother is motioning for them to leave the room, and Katya realizes that Trixie’s mom wants a moment alone with her daughter. Probably to say goodbye. Katya realizes that that’s something she should do, too. 

She realizes that if she had thought about doing it at all, she was waiting for the next day. But the idea of waking up the next morning and recharging herself with even a fraction of the emotions that have been racing through this room today is exhausting. That’s Katya’s first thought. Her second is that she’s maybe, just maybe, ready to let go.

Pam comes out a few minutes later. Her eyes are red and her jaw is tight, but other than that, Katya thinks she wouldn’t be able to guess what the woman had just been doing. 

Katya takes a breath, feels her mom lightly squeeze her shoulder. She knows it’s time.  
“Give me a sec,” she says to her mom. “Then we can go.”

Katya walks into room 104 and tries to remember her first time there. It feels all muddled beneath the long nights and early mornings she’s spent draped over her sleeping Trixie. She wonders if she should say goodbye to the room, too.

“Well, Tallulah,” Katya sighs. She sits beside Trixie, focuses on the freckles on her cheeks. “I’m really gonna miss bringing you flowers, you know that? And I think I’ll miss Daria, too. Those younger nurses...eh, not so much. And these white sheets have gotten kind of boring, if you ask me.” She chuckles to herself, shakes her head. 

“No, you’re right, I’m stalling. The thing is, Trix, I really don’t wanna do this.” _Please don’t make me do this, baby._ “I mean, what am I supposed to say? That you’re my….fuck, you’re my best friend, and I don’t wanna lose you? That I wish I’d done so much different - that I’d kissed you more, taken more time to tell you your hair looked nice, took us on more vacations, listened to you more closely when you were playing your guitar?

“I think I’m really gonna miss sex, baby. If you were here, I don’t know if you’d try to sell me some bullcrap about finding love again, but let me tell you, Tracy, there’s no one like you. You ruined me, baby, ruined me to get fucked by anyone else, to be loved by anyone else. I guess that’s what happens when you get hitched with your first love.

“Well, we weren’t perfect, Trix. We were far from it. But I loved you so good, and your love was so good to me, too. We were best friends first and foremost and god was the sex good. I really don’t wanna say bye to you here, baby. But I’ve gotta. Else they’re gonna take the apartment and probably put me in the loony bin.” She chuckles, feels the lump in her throat, the fiery water pooling in her eyes. She leans forward to push that golden hair back from the face shes loves one more time, kisses her softly on the forehead.

“Bye bye, Trix. You’ll always be my best girl.”

***

Dr. Klein had explained the process to Katya early on. When they were done with the discussions about just what life support was and how much it cost - and fuck did it cost a lot - he’d taken her through the process of what it would be like, should she choose to “pull the plug.”

Basically, the machine next to Trixie is making sure she keeps breathing. Once it’s shut off, air will stop being transported to her lungs, and eventually, she’ll go brain dead. Once her heart stops pumping blood, she’ll be gone.

As Katya stands over her wife, she doesn’t feel anything. She’s raw. She’s given too much, and she’s ready to mourn. But right now, she doesn’t let her feel anything at all.  
Katya’s mom’s got a hand on her shoulder as she stands closely behind her, and Trixie’s mom is seated in the corner of the room. Dr. Klein is there, and so is Daria, along with a couple nurses Katya doesn’t recognize. Katya knows it’s stupid, but she wishes it could be just the two of them.

“Are you ready?” Dr. Klein says. Katya thinks back to about an hour ago, when she sat opposite this man at his sleek desk in his expensive office, signing the paperwork that would send her wife to her death. No, I’m not, but do it anyway. 

She nods, yes.

Dr. Klein and one of the younger nurses are adjusting something on the machine next to Trixie, and Katya’s trying to avoid Daria’s stare. Katya know the older woman means the best, but at the moment, the thing she needs in the world is pity.

She’s tracing Trixie’s face with her eyes again, memorizing the shape of her fingers. And it’s then that she sees it.

The smallest of twitches.

“Wait.”

She knows what her mother will say, what her friends would say, knows that it sounds crazy. But she saw what she saw, and her heart is racing through her throat.

“Uh, Ms. Zamolodchikova, we’re already in the process of-”

“No, wait,” says a voice across the room. Katya whips her head up and finds Trixie’s mom on her feet. Her eyes are glued to her daughter, also staring at her hands. “Now I’m not city doctor, Mister Klein, but I’ve got a good pair of working eyes, and I just saw my baby girl’s hands move.”

Katya’s heart is going to beat out of her chest. She can’t breathe, can’t think, won’t let herself believe anything for too long.

Then Katya’s own mom is yelping, and Katya feels her hand leave Katya’s shoulder.

“Her eyes,” Katya’s mom is saying. “Doctor, look at her eyes!”

Trixie’s eyelashes have started to twitch, too, and then her eyebrows are drawing together.

Holy shit, Katya thinks, and then, don’t let yourself believe anything, Zamo, and then finally, Beatrice Mattel, you motherfucker, you better not be faking me out right now. 

The next few minutes are a whirlwind of movement. Doctor Klein is adjusting knobs and nurses are measuring things on Trixie that Katya doesn’t understand. That little machine in the corner of the room whose steady beeping has been the background of Katya’ existence for sixth months is going off the charts, beeping sporadically as Katya’s heart pounds in her chest.

“We’ve got a good sign,” Daria says. Katya freezes where she is, can’t move, can’t speak. “Oh my god - and she’s with us, she’s back. Trixie? Trixie, can you hear us?”

Her eyes are open.

They’re open and they’re blue and they’re as pretty as Katya remembers. Katya’s mom is saying something to her, and she thinks Pam is crying in the corner, but all Katya can focus on is Trixie’s eyes. They’re blinking rapidly and confused and flustered. And they’re open. Miraculously, they’re open.

“We’re gonna leave to get some tests,” Dr. Klein says, probably to Katya. She barely hears him. “We’ll be right back.” The room is a whirlwind of commotion around them, as Pam goes into the hallway with a phone in her hand, Katya’s mom tries to pull aside a nurse who’s trying to do something else, while Daria and whoever else is in the room anxiously discuss what sort of tests they need to run.

It’s all background noise to Katya. Slowly, she moves toward the bed, toward Trixie, who looks confused and out of breath. Katya sinks down into the chair beside her, feels a breath of hot air escape her.

“Well, Trix,” she hears how cracked her voice is, and in an instant, those blue eyes are on her again. “You’ve always been one for grand entrances. This one just came about six months late.”

Katya’s expecting a bit of confusion that eventually settles into understanding or recognition, as Trixie realizes that stupid line just came from _her wife._ Instead, she’s met with a prolonged blank stare as Trixie furrows her brow, looking at Katya like she’s speaking Russian.

“Mom?” Trixie calls. It’s so good to hear her voice again that Katya barely notices how strained and cracked it is. That’s to be expected, she supposes, after not speaking for six months. It comes as a surprise to Trixie, though, who starts huffing coughs into her elbow. Katya puts a hand on her shoulder expecting Trixie to lean into it, and feels a shock go through her as Trixie flinches away.

“Mom!” Trixie calls again. 

“She’s just outside - sweetie, it’s okay, she just stepped outside, she’ll be in in a second…” Katya trails off when Trixie turns to her again, meets her with that same confused stare. “Trixie? Trixie, it’s me…” Katya feels her voice slipping away from her when Trixie anxiously looks around the room.

Pam comes rushing in, and Katya watches as a weight visibly slips from Trixie’s shoulders.

“Mom,” Trixie says as Pam makes her way toward her. Katya is frozen in her seat, feels invisible against the scene playing out before her. “Mommy, where are we? Where’s Bella, where’s Johnny?”

Katya frowns, looks to Pam for help, who just looks back at her. Bella, Trixie’s sister, hasn’t spoken to her since college. And her brother, Johnny, died five years ago.

“Trixie, honey,” Pam says, putting a hand on her daughter’s shoulders. Trixie’s got anxious tears on her cheeks and Katya wants to lean forward to swipe them away, but feels her bones chaining her to her spot. “Trixie, I need you to calm down, everything’s okay. We’re in the hospital, but you’re okay - look, honey, Katya’s right there-”

“Who’s Katya?”

Katya freezes. Her heart stops. She’s shaking, suffocating, slowly rising out of her seat, moving to get outside so she can breathe again.

“Trixie.” Pam looks at Trixie firmly, keeps her voice steady with a hand on her daughter’s shoulder. “This is gonna sound crazy, but can you tell me what year it is?”

Trixie’s frown deepens and she looks at the nurses around her like her mom is going crazy. When Trixie speaks, her voice is soft, but there isn’t a hint of hesitation.

“It’s 2001.”

Katya bursts out the door. She’s blind to the nurses and doctors she passes in the hallway, blind to most things, as her hot tears obscure her vision. She needs to get outside, to the smoker’s corner or the front doors. Any breath she has is being strangled out of her, and she needs to get something, anything into her lungs again.

Trixie thinks it’s 2001. She met Katya in August of 2002.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> just a quick thing, if u read an earlier version of chapter one, you might remember that they danced to a Weeknd song in college. for our purposes - being that they were in college in the early 2000s - that has since been changed to a George Michael song. I know none of you care, but this was of the utmost importance to me.
> 
> as always, I'm on tumblr at katyasghoulfriend <3


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And now, Trixie’s lost all of it.
> 
> Ten years, multiple careers, and an entire marriage are lost in some cavern of Trixie’s brain that she can’t reach. Either that, or burned from her mind completely, somewhere even Katya can’t reach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi hello! First and foremost some housekeeping bc I have dumb bitch disease. Thank you to @yourgothgf for pointing out a very obvious logical error I made in these first two chapters about when this story takes place. So, to clarify:  
> \- 2002: trixie and katya meet and are sophomores in college  
> \- ten years later is 2012 NOT 2022 (wow I love math) so the current year is 2012  
> \- Trixie and Katya are 29, NOT 30
> 
> I really hope this didn't take away from anyone's experience reading this story! The continued support on this really blows me away, so a huge thank you to everyone who's left comments or kudos. And another big thank you to @33rdThwoorp - you are not only my editor but my angel and my muse. This story couldn't happen without you.
> 
> Also: TW for past alcohol abuse (extremely brief).
> 
> This is my favorite chapter so far - enjoy!

**Nine Years Before**

Katya and Trixie break up twice.

Both times while they are in college, young and dumb and unexperienced, and a little terrified of their love as they grow into it, realizing the weight of it. 

The first time it happens, it’s the tail end of the first semester of their junior year. Trixie’s just decided to minor in communications, and midterm season is hitting her hard. Trixie’s usually golden, flowy, voluminous hair is dry and flaky, flat and lifeless. Katya asks her the last time she’s washed it, and Trixie looks at her like she’s crazy, like something akin to taking care of herself is at the bottom of her priority list. Trixie’s barely going to any of her classes, using the time allotted for her class periods to stress herself out in the library or hide out in the darkness of her dorm room. She’s barely eating because it’s something she forgets about. When Katya brings a veggie burger and fries to her dorm one day, Trixie gulfs it down like it’s the first time she’s had a full meal in weeks.

Katya can bear it, she thinks. She can make it through the breakdowns and the tired eyes and the cancelled dates. She brushes Trixie’s hair while Trixie falls asleep over a textbook at her desk, and she rubs her shoulders while they sit in the library, brings her salads and bottles of water.

But then Trixie finds alcohol, and Katya finds everything a thousand times harder.

During her time in college, Trixie has kept alcohol at a weary distance, only indulging at parties, and even then, with a strict limit. Katya can’t blame her after learning about how she grew up. Binge drinking had become Trixie’s stepfather’s main coping mechanism, and Trixie and her mother and younger siblings had to feel the effects of it.

So Trixie was careful until she wasn’t. Alcohol became her sleeping pill, her 5-hour energy, and her substitute for sex. And Katya did everything she could until she couldn’t anymore. She loved Trixie, but this person wasn’t Trixie, and Katya drew the line. As long as Trixie was refusing to get help, Katya couldn’t be with her anymore.

They were broken up for six lonely, long, frustrating weeks that Katya spent working herself to the bone during the day and refusing to make plans with her friends - _Trixie’s friends_ \- at night. Four days before Katya went back to Massachusetts for winter break, Trixie showed up at her dorm room with teary eyes and wringing hands and a note from the school psychologist that said she was “taking her medication” and had “phenomenally improved.” Katya had Trixie huddled in her arms within minutes, sushing her “I’m sorry”s muttered into Katya’s chest, kissing her hair and telling her she was so, so proud.

The second time they break up is the first semester of their senior year, just off a summer spent together with internships in New York. Those months had quickly become suffocating when they realized the effects of having literally no other friends in the state, and they had virtually become each other’s only sources of companionship. After a nasty shouting match in late August, they call it quits. This one barely lasts four weeks.

The break culminates in what’s supposed to be a “quick coffee to catch up” at a place not too far from campus. Katya gets there eary, she so gets to watch a flustered Trixie come stumbling in, short-shorts riding up her ass while her Dolly Parton shirt tugs tightly on her tits. The moment Katya sees her, she knows she’s fucked.

The meeting is wrought with tension as they ask about each other’s classes and clubs in over-polite tones.

“Have you um, have you been with anyone else? Since?” Katya says it while idly tracing her finger around the brim of her glass, keeping her eyes on the condensation quickly dripping down her cup of iced coffee. In her peripheral vision, she catches the way Trixie shifts uncomfortably in her seat, probably pulling down those fucking daisy dukes that look like they’re about 3 sizes too small. 

“That’s a very personal question, Katya.” _Girl,_ Katya thinks. _I have had my whole fist inside you._

Katya’s gaze snaps up and she sees the indignant look on Trixie’s face, thinks that she wants to kiss it off, make her scream until indignance is the last thing on her mind.

“Well I’ve been going on dates,” Katya lies. She almost met up with one girl from her Econ class and chickened out at the last second, told her she had an ear infection and then spent the day hiding in her dorm room. “So I just thought I’d ask.”

Katya doesn’t miss the spark that flashes in Trixie’s eye, the way her jaw just barely flexes tightly at the information.

A few more minutes pass, and Katya really thinks she’s gonna lose it. Trixie’s moved her calf so that it rests against Katya’s under the table and she’s tied her hair back so that Katya has a crystal clear view of the tendons in her neck. Katya thinks about how she knows exactly which parts of her to suck on if she wants Trixie to be a puddle of moans beneath her.

Trixie’s been talking for awhile now, going on about a project from one of her music classes, and Katya’s only half listening. Katya makes a decision and then she’s cutting Trixie off, asking, “Have you made any changes to your dorm?”

Trixie looks startled, and then annoyed, but she’s answering Katya regardless.

“Uh, I think? Not any big ones. My roommate put up some twinkling lights around our desks-”

“I’d like to see them, please.”

Katya watches as Trixie’s expression shifts from one of frustrated confusion to heated understanding. They’re in Trixie’s dorm in minutes, and then Katya’s in the familiar position of having Trixie backed up against her own door. Katya’s pinned Trixie’s wrists over her head and she’s biting at her neck, muttering nonsense while she listens to Trixie moan.

“Wearing those fucking booty shorts to our coffee date and a fucking Dolly Parton shirt that your tits are about to pop out of…” Katya’s pressed against Trixie, can feel her nipples harden beneath the thin material of her shirt. She recognizes the pale pink bra Trixie’s wearing as one of Katya’s favorites. “And then this shit.” She snaps Trixie’s bra strap against her, sighs at the squeak it gets out of her.

“Katya…” Trixie’s sighing. Katya contents in the knowledge that that’s all she can probably manage. She decides to push Trixie, nonetheless. 

“Did you fuck anyone else?” Katya says it with her lips pressed to Trixie’s ear, starts to suck on her lobe.

“Someone...this one girl…” Trixie starts to trail off, so Katya groans into her neck, shoves a knee between Trixie’s legs, pressing against her cunt. “Ahh and she….I came close, I went back to her dorm after a party but...I couldn’t, Kat, it wasn’t you…” That’s enough to send Katya over the edge. She lets go of Trixie’s wrists so she can wrap her arms around her and kiss Trixie properly. With her woman squished tightly against her, her lips pliant and hot beneath Katya’s, Katya thinks that this is bliss. 

She makes a promise to herself that afternoon - after she and Trixie are naked beneath Trixie’s thin blankets, out of breath and thoroughly fucked - that she’ll never let go of that woman again. As she holds Trixie close to her chest, feels Trixie’s nose nuzzle into Katya’s breasts, she thinks that there shouldn’t be anything that they aren’t able to work through. 

And for the next ten years, she’s right.

 **Present Day**

As Katya sits across from Doctor Klein, in that same office where she learned that her wife had been in a car accident six months ago, she feels like she’s going to be sick.

She’s thinking about that promise she made to herself and to Trixie on that tiny twin bed, about how through bills they can’t pay and missed rent, through nervous breakdowns in public and desperate breakdowns at home, through doubt about their careers and their stability and their home, Trixie and Katya have made it through. Their love is firm and it’s good, and it’s stood the test of time.

And now, Trixie’s lost all of it.

Ten years, multiple careers, and an entire marriage are lost in some cavern of Trixie’s brain that she can’t reach. Either that, or burned from her mind completely, somewhere even Katya can’t reach.

Doctor Klein is explaining the difference between retrograde and anterograde amnesia, telling Katya that from the tests they’ve performed, it’s definitely retrograde. He says this like it should encourage Katya, who’s still staring at him blankly, trying to keep her morning coffee down.

“Basically, this means that her episodic memory has been affected, but her semantic memory is intact. We’ll have to run some MRIs to double check that there’s been no damage to her Broca’s or Wernicke’s areas - which control language and speech - but so far the fact that she’s able to speak coherently and understand the people around her are good signs.” Katya’s nodding and trying to keep her patience, telling herself this is all information she needs to know. But the frustration and fear bubbling in her throat are threatening to pour over, and she doesn’t know how long she’ll last.

“So, Doc, I’m sure this is all extremely helpful information that...should be relieving to me. But you know what I’m gonna ask because you haven’t answered it yet.”

Doctor Klein lets out a steady breath through his nose and Katya watches as he fidgets with his fingers.

“You’re asking about her chances of recall.” _Yeah, I’m asking how likely it is that my wife will fucking remember who I am at some point. That’s something that’s just a bit interesting to me._ “Well, usually in cases where amnesia is caused by blunt trauma, the accident itself will never be recalled. But episodic memory further away from the accident will be easier to recall, hence…”

“Hence Trixie remembering the first 18 years of her life, but not the most recent 11.”

Doctor Klein sighs.

“It is an unusually long amount of time to have lost, but she was also in a coma for such an extended period -”

“Lost? So those memories as lost. They’re not, like, hidden somewhere? They’re really just all fucking gone.”

Katya can feel tears burning at her eyes as she angrily clenches around the lump in her throat.

“We don’t know that for sure,” the doctor says. “There is a good chance of Trixie beginning to remember earlier events and periods of time, especially with physical reminders like photos or articles or stories from loved ones - like you, Katya - but with more recent periods, it’s...unclear.” 

“What’s the chance of it all coming back.”

Katya holds the doctor’s gaze steady, decides that if she’s going to have her heart broken one more time, she needs to hear it now, and not from a WebMD article in a few weeks at 3am.

“Katya, I’m sorry. But it’s highly unlikely.”

Katya feels a tear stream down her cheek and she swallows thickly.

“Okay.”

“Katya, it’s not impossible-”

“Okay.” She cuts him off and clenches her fists. She decides there’s no use mourning over things she can’t save - or at least, the part of her brain in charge of protecting her sanity decides that. “So what can I do from here. What’s the best way to help.” 

Katya listens to Doctor Klein talk her through the best ways to push Trixie in a direction that will help her recover the most memories she’s capable of recovering while still making sure not to overwhelm her. Katya knows that Trixie’s been getting tests done on her all day, and she wishes that she could be with there now to hold her hand and tell her it was gonna be okay. But she realizes that her presence wouldn’t be as comforting as she thinks, and the nausea is back. Katya’s just a stranger now.

It’s been a long day of tests being done and nurses and doctors coming in and out of Trixie’s room, of Katya talking to Doctor Klein and a psychologist that’s on hand. It’s early afternoon by the time Katya sees Trixie’s mom again, who’s looking tired and worse for wear.

“Katya,” she says. Katya’s standing in the hallway, having just talked to Doctor Klein. Pam has just come out of Trixie’s room. “I think you should talk to her.”

Katya thinks that she’s been dreading this the most. She knows that it’s Trixie behind those doors, Trixie lying on that bed that’s become something of a permanent staple in Katya’s life. But she doesn’t know how she’ll handle seeing the eyes she’s been in love with for ten years look at Katya like she doesn’t know her.

“Okay,” Katya says, and follows Pam into Room 104. Trixie’s sitting up in bed, and it strikes Katya as odd to see her in a different position than the one she’s grown used to over the past few months. But she also knows it’s far from the biggest thing she’s going to have to get used to.

Trixie’s sipping apple juice out of a little plastic cup, lips puckered around a bendy straw. Katya immediately picks up on the way her shoulders are hunched, like Trixie’s trying to make herself smaller. She used to carry herself that way when they were in college sometimes and Trixie was still getting used to not living in Wisconsin anymore. Her coping mechanism became making herself as tiny as possible.

“Bea, hun?” Pam says. Trixie is visibly keeping her eyes on her mother and not Katya. “I think you and Katya should talk for a little bit, is that okay?” Trixie hesitates, and her eyes are on her mother. Katya knows her expression says _please don’t make me do this_ and her heart breaks impossibly harder.

“I can uh...I can come back later,” Katya is saying, but Pam’s got her hand on Katya’s shoulder. 

“No - Beatrice, I think it’s good that you talk to her now.” Katya walks on shaky legs over to the chair beside Trixie’s bed. She doesn’t look at how the fingers wrapped around that cup of apple juice are shaking. “Okay, I’ll be back in a few minutes, hun.” Trixie’s eyes impossibly widen, like it hasn’t occurred to her that she’ll be alone with Katya without her mother, who’s been with Trixie all day. Pam’s the only person who’s familiar to Trixie in this whole damn state. “It’s just a few minutes, I’m just going to get some iced tea from the cafeteria.” Pam throws a strained smile at Katya that she can’t exactly read, and then Trixie and Katya are alone.

Trixie’s still avoiding her eyes, and Katya’s trying to think of a gentle entrance into conversation. She feels like everything Doctor Klein and the resident psychologist have been telling her for the past few hours just slipped out of her brain, and Katya is considering leaving to get Pam, when Trixie finally speaks.

“So...we’re married?”

Katya feels a pang in her chest. But it’s also just so fucking good to hear Trixie’s voice.

“Yes - uh, yeah. We are. We are extremely married.” She’s painfully aware of how awkward and stinted she sounds. It occurs to her that at 18, Trixie used to lie in her bed and dream about getting swept off her feet by a city woman, aching to get into her Dream School in the Big City. The doctors had told Katya that Trixie’s last memories trace back to January 2001. In her mind, she’s still a senior in high school, and still living with the fear of getting rejected from every college she’s depending on acting as her ticket out of the dreary midwest.

“Well,” Trixie begins. “I guess that saves me having to come out.”

_Oh shit._

Trixie came out to her mother and younger siblings during winter break her freshman year of college.

“Yeah, you know, I think having a wife is a pretty good way of telling the people in your life you’re a lesbian. More women should try it.” The gets a laugh out of Trixie. It’s small and her cheeks go red immediately afterward, but it makes Katya smile from ear to ear. “So uh, what are they serving around here?” Katya decides to stick with humor, thinks that it’s safer than drifting into subjects that risk a spontaneous monologue about their ten-year-relationship. “Must be pretty lousy if they’re putting it in a plastic cup, huh?” Trixie giggles.

“Mama’s gonna go get some iced tea from the cafeteria.”

“Yeah, yeah, that’s good.” Katya clears her throat, feels a bit of awkwardness creep back into the room. “Uh...mamas are good at that. At taking care of things. Especially yours, girlie.”

Trixie smiles, and then looks down into her lap.

“Do we...have children?”

“Oh - us? No, no, just the two of us.” Katya smiles but feels starts to feel her heart sink. She’s watching the realization that she’s thirty, married, and still hasn’t had children spread across Trixie’s cheeks. 

“Oh,” she says quietly. God, Katya’s forgotten what a romantic little Trixie was. By Trixie’s late twenties she was able to laugh at the effortless, fairy-tale-like perfection she used to picture around things like marriage and motherhood and love and New York City. She’d laugh at it while drunk off cheap rosè, lounging on the dirty couch in her and Katya’s busted apartment as the couple celebrated paying their rent early that month. But the Trixie in front of Katya’s eyes isn’t strong enough for that yet, and Katya’s processing the realization that she’s going to have to ease Trixie into things that have become commonplace in their lives.

“Well, I’ll tell you what, Dolly.” The nickname makes Trixie’s brow furrow, but Katya catches a small twinkle in her eye. “When they finally give us the okay to get out of here, we’ve got a whole bottle of the finest sparkling apple cider back home. It’ll make the stuff they’re giving you here feel like knockoff 99 cents store crap.”

Apparently it’s the wrong thing to say, because Trixie’s eyes are wide and there’s fear written all over her face. Katya’s heart is racing and she’s trying to figure out where she went wrong when Pam comes back into the room.

“Here we go, Bea, it’s not the best, but it’ll do-”

“Mama, when are we going home?”

Shit.

It occurs to Katya that the only home Trixie knows isn’t home to her anymore, hasn’t been for over ten years. The apartment they’ve built their life in is as foreign to her as Katya.

“Well, Bea.” Pam looks uncomfortable, and she’s clearly having the same realization as Katya. She puts the iced tea down on Trixie’s tray. Trixie doesn’t touch it. “We’re not exactly going back to the house in Wisconsin. I’ve gotta go and get back to work in a few days and you….well, you’ve gotta stay here with Katya, hun.”

Katya doesn’t miss the tears forming in Trixie’s eyes and she’s overwhelmed with the feeling that she’s going to be sick.

“Excuse me, ladies.” She says it quickly and ignores how Pam starts to call out her name. In moments, Katya’s in one of the single-stall bathrooms down the hall, dry-heaving into the toilet beneath her. She’s got tears streaming down her face as she strains with the effort, realizing she hasn’t consumed anything but coffee since breakfast.

This day has been so fucking long. When she woke up, she thought she was going to be ending her day with a dead wife. Instead she has an 18-year-old wife trapped in a 30-year-old’s body, and she’s processing the effects of having the woman she’s loved for ten years look at her with eyes that are terrified and sad. She’s a fucking stranger to Trixie, who doesn’t remember their fights or their first kiss, or the surprise birthdays Katya’s thrown her or getting proposed to in Florence. They’ve worked so hard to build a world together, and Katya’s feeling it all crumble before her eyes. She feels like all she can do is is watch, helplessly weave her fingers through the dust.

Katya raises her head from the toilet, thinks that she’d give anything for a cigarette. But Trixie hates the smell, and she’d probably have to brush her teeth three times and wash her clothes and hair, and even then, when she’s freed herself from the smell of smoke, Trixie would still look at her with those terrified eyes. She thinks that she might as well go and smoke anyways. 

Katya’s thinking that she feels utterly, totally helpless when she reminds herself that days ago, her wife was in a coma that everyone refused to believe she’d come out of. This is better than that. This, Katya can work with. She can work toward something here. She can try.

This is what she tells herself as she stands and washes her face in the dingy beige sink of this sickeningly sterile hospital. She moves her hair behind her ears and straightens her blouse. She’s got a chance here. A chance to try. And she’ll be damned if she gives up on Trixie. She knows that if their roles were reversed, Trixie would be damned before giving up on her.

As she comes out of the bathroom, Katya thinks that she’s still not ready to go back in and see Trixie again and briefly considers going down to the cafeteria to check in on her own mom. The woman’s been helping out Pam all day, and holding Katya’s hand when they both have a spare moment. But she doesn’t think the hospital cafeteria is quite the right place to have a breakdown in your mother’s arms - which is exactly what Katya feels like doing at the moment - so she decides to save that for later.

It occurs to her that she hasn’t checked her phone all day, that none of their friends have even a semblance of what’s happened.

Katya steps outside, takes a seat on one of the benches by the main entrances. She takes out her phone, doesn’t look at any of the messages from her friends. She knows they’ll be good-intentioned, but be more of the ‘sorry about your dead wife’ type than the ‘sorry your wife is experiencing a condition that made her forget about you altogether’ type.

She stares at her contact list and doesn’t have to think about which call would be the most painless. She hits dial and isn’t surprised when Alaska picks up on the first ring.

“Katya,” she says immediately. “Are you okay? Well fuck - of course you’re not okay, what a stupid question. Is there anything I can -”

“Trixie’s awake.”

There’s a beat of silence and Katya can feel Alaska going slack-jawed on the other end. 

“Well shit, that’s amazing. Oh my god, that’s amazing, Katya.”

“Um. Yeah. So about that.” Katya lets out a sigh, crushes an old cigarette butt with the sole of her sneaker. “Do you know the difference between retrograde and anterograde amnesia?”

***  
Alaska takes on the task of telling everyone in Katya and Trixie’s combined circles what’s happened. Or at least, to the extent that she can handle in one night. She also promises to text with check-ins every few hours, and Katya’s agreed to reply, even if it’s just a lazy thumbs up. 

The sun has gone down and it’s starting to get cold. Katya wraps her arms around herself as she shivers, and thinks it might be the universe telling her to get her ass inside and go speak to her wife. 

When she gets back to the room, her mother and Pam are there with Trixie, who’s changed into loose pants and a sweatshirt that look like they’ve been provided by the hospital. Sitting straight up with her legs dangling over the side of the hospital bed, Katya can see how 18-year-old Trixie is struggling to adjust to the curves and growth of her 30-year-old body. 

Daria is there too, and she explains to Katya that they’ve just finished their last MRI and physical examination.

“Just a bit of paperwork and we should be okay to go.” To go. Go home. Back to their apartment, together. Katya thinks how that idea might have sent her over the moon only days ago. But now that she’s looking at Trixie, visibly uncomfortable and marginally scared, Katya’s filled with dread.

 _Come on, Zamo,_ she thinks. _Pull it together. For Trixie._

Doctor Klein comes back with the paperwork and explains the physical therapy and routine checkups Trixie’s going to have to go through over the next few weeks. He’s talking more to Katya than anything, while Trixie keeps glancing furtively at her mother. Katya knows that Pam’s departure hasn’t really sunk in yet.

There’s paperwork and goodbyes to Daria and an extremely strained Uber ride - the family has completely sworn off taxis for understandable reasons - and then Katya and Trixie and their mothers are back at the apartment. Katya’s struggling to get her key inside and she can feel Trixie clutching her mother’s arm behind her.

“Well, here we are,” Katya says as she ushers her the women in. She watches Trixie take in her surroundings, wonders if she picks up on the little bits of the apartment that are distinctly her. Trixie’s eyes linger on the Dolly Parton posters they keep in their living room, three in a row, each with a corresponding poster for obscure Russian musicians beneath them. Katya thinks that she wants to show Trixie the kitchen so her eyes can rake over the the little pink table sets she’s picked out, or the embroidered napkins they bought at a farmer’s market because they reminded Trixie of home. Katya wants to give her a guided tour of every seemingly unimportant trinket scattered about their home that tells a story of them and their marriage, of who they are and who they’ve grown into.

Instead she watches as Trixie casts her eyes down, grips her mom’s arm a little tighter.

“Katya,” Pam says. “Maybe now’s a good time to show Trixie around a bit?”

“Oh - yeah, of course uh - well, there’s really not all that much to see.” Katya laughs nervously as she goes to stand by Trixie and Pam, gesturing to the kitchen. “That’s, you know, obviously the kitchen, and this here is the living room. That door through their is our - is the bedroom.” She feels her voice stumble as she quickly corrects herself, watching Trixie’s eyes widen in what she thinks can only be horror. “And that room in there is our study.” Katya nods quickly and realizes she’s waiting for a response from Trixie. Pam gives her daughter a little nudge, which gets Trixie to mumble out a small ‘thank you’ before immediately bringing her gaze back to the floor.

“Okay, well, it’s getting pretty late,” Pam says. “I’ve got an early flight home, Bea, and I’ve gotta be heading back to the hotel so uh….” She looks at Katya, who understands what she’s saying and nods.

“Oh yeah, of course. I’ll give you guys a moment.” Katya catches her own mother’s gaze and then they’re together in the bedroom while Trixie and her mother talk in hushed voices outside.

“Yekaterina,” her mother breathes out. Katya plops down onto the bed and immediately has her head in her hands. The comfort of being alone with her mother in her own bedroom after their hell of a day is hitting her, and she feels exhaustion creep into her bones. Her mother is softly rubbing her back as Katya lets out a heavy breath. 

“Mama,” she says.

“I know, I know, Yekat…”

“Mama, she doesn’t remember me.”

Katya’s mother sighs.

“I can’t imagine what you’re feeling right now, Yekaterina. But I need you to remember...that is still Trixie in there. She’s not exactly the same Trixie you’ve grown into, but she’s your Trixie. I know you don’t like when I talk about soulmates and old myths….” Katya lets out a little groan. “Now shush, Yekat. I know you don’t believe in soulmates, but maybe you can make believe for just a little while. Just until you and your Trixie grow back into each other. Your love is too good and too strong to be given up on just because your Trixie got a little bump on the head.” Katya snorts, thinks that she’s too tired to argue that a six-month-long coma is more than a ‘little bump on the head.’ “I know you and I know Trixie and I know that even this isn’t enough to end you. It will be hard, Yekaterina, and there will be pain. But you and your Trixie will find your way back to each other.”

Katya shakes her head, thinks she would cry if she wasn’t so numb. Her mama is really too good to her.

“Thank you, mama.” Katya takes her head out of her hands, sits up to wrap her arms around her mother’s shoulders. 

“Of course, Yekat, or course….”

They break apart when Katya hears the door to the bedroom opening, sees Pam stick her head inside.

“Svetlana, I’m just about to head back to the hotel. You wanna share an Uber?” Katya’s mother agrees, and then stands to give Katya one more hug. Katya walks the women out, endures a crushing hug from Trixie’s mother, who gets close to Katya’s ear and says, ‘You take good care of my baby, now.’ Then they’re gone.

When Katya turns around, Trixie is sitting nervously on the couch in the living room. Katya supresses a sigh, thinks _here we go._

Katya goes to sit beside Trixie on the couch and realizes she’s holding a framed picture that they have sitting on the coffee table. It’s of the two of them smiling at the camera, Katya’s arms wrapped around Trixie, who’s mid-laugh. Katya thinks that she can hear that laugh, if she tries hard enough.

“When was this taken?” Trixie asks.

“Let’s see, uh...that was your 27th birthday, I took you to Niagara Falls for the weekend. This is just about the only decent photo we got from that trip. I kept saying all these old Russian adages whenever we tried to take a picture, so in all of them either you’ve got your eyes closed from laughing or I’ve got my my face contorted like a crazy bitch. And other tourists stopped saying yes when we asked them for photos I think, once they caught on to the gag.”

Katya smiles at the memory, then realizes that Trixie’s staring at her. 

“Uh - we’ve got a lot more photo albums we can look through, if you’d like, and a lot more stories that are way better than that one. The doctor said it might be good to -”

“I’m okay,” Trixie cuts her off. Her voice is high and Katya recognizes it as her nervous voice. “I mean, for tonight. Maybe another time, but I’m really tired.”

Trixie’s eyes linger on the bedroom door, and Katya makes a decision.

“I can sleep on the couch for tonight.” 

Trixie’s eyes are wide and Katya realizes that she can’t read her expression.

“It’s your room -”

“It’s our room. It’s - your room, too, and….” _I don’t wanna spook you or make you think some 30-year-old hag is gonna jump your bones in the middle of the night._ “....it can just be tonight, if that’s okay, and you can see how you feel tomorrow.” Katya nods and stands up quickly, feels Trixie following her into the bedroom.

Katya gives Trixie a quick tour of their dresser, shows her where she can find her pajamas and socks and underwear. 

“And we have an en suite bathroom, so feel free to take a shower or bath or whatever you need.”

Trixie nods and runs her hands over the comforter of their bed.

“This is really pretty.” Trixie gives a small smile and it sends Katya’s heart soaring.

“Well I should hope so, missy, you picked them out. Final call sale at this little place down the street.” _I can take you there sometime,_ she thinks. _You’d love it. You already do._

Trixie’s hand goes still and the smile fades from her face. Katya feels a storm go through her chest - she wishes she could just figure out what the fuck she’s doing wrong.

“I’ll be up tomorrow at around eight,” Katya says. “Feel free to sleep in if you want, I’m an early bird is all.” Katya doesn’t look at Trixie, but focuses on gathering a few blankets and pillows, then grabs her pajamas so she can make her bed on the couch.

“Okay.” Trixie’s voice is small.

“Alright, I’m heading outside - is there anything else you need?” _Fuck,_ Katya thinks. She sounds like a damn waiter.

“No, this is good.” Katya watches Trixie swallow thickly. “Thank you, Katya.”

Hearing her name on Trixie’s lips again is enough to send her heart into her stomach.

“No problem, Trix. Goodnight.”

As Katya sets herself up on the couch, shivering beneath the thin blanket she’s chosen, she wonders if she’ll wake up to this all being a dream. She thinks she’d tell Trixie, who would pout and say she was sorry then kiss Katya’s cheeks, twirl a strand of hair around her finger. But there’s no waking up, and Trixie is right there on the other end of their apartment.

As Katya closes her eyes she prays that she doesn’t dream. The last thing she thinks before she falls asleep is that she forgot to get Trixie that fancy apple cider.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! I promise things will look up for these girls soon <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trixie - Trixie, I need you to calm down.” Katya’s already scrambling for her jacket, her keys. “I will be there as soon as possible. I just need you to give me some sort of indication of where you are.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Despite that ominous summary, I promise things are starting to look up for our girls :) Thank you so much to everyone who's stuck with this story so far!

Katya wakes up to the alarm on her phone, quieter than usual so as to not wake Trixie. She skips her morning yoga because she forgot to bring her sports bra and leggings into the living room, and she doesn’t want to creep into the bedroom for fear of scaring the woman sleeping there.

Katya meanders into the kitchen with the intent of making breakfast for the two of them and darkly thinks that she’s performing some sort of contorted version of the morning routine she had grown so accustomed to.

In the kitchen first instinct is eggs, until she realizes that that’s what she made the morning of the accident. She rolls her eyes at herself, tells herself she’s being silly. But the superstitions she grew up watching her mother and grandmother respect so dearly have clearly taken their effect on Katya, because she makes french toast instead.

She’s expecting Trixie to sleep in well past 11, so when Trixie’s peaking her head out the bedroom door just about half an hour after Katya’s woken up, it throws her for a loop.

“Oh hey sweetie - Trix.” Katya cuts herself off and tries to cover her blush with a smile.

“Good morning,” Trixie says quietly. “Are you making french toast?”

“Yup! And I can brew some coffee in a few minutes if you-” Katya stops and silently curses herself. Trixie didn’t start drinking coffee until their senior year of college. “Or uh...I could hunt around for some tea, if you’d like?”

“Tea would be nice.” Trixie takes a seat on one of the stools by their kitchen island. Katya notices she’s chosen to wear the soft, pink Victoria’s Secret pajamas that Katya got her for Valentine’s Day last year. Usually Trixie will only break out the set when they’re having a special night in, usually preferring to sport an old t-shirt and gym shorts for bed. The sight of her in the soft pink linens makes Katya smile.

“Here, I can hook my phone up to the speaker if you want to choose some music to put on.”

Trixie smiles, but her brow is furrowed in slight confusion. “Okay.” It occurs to Katya that Trixie’s going to have to relearn ten years’ worth of technological advances, and watches her eyes widen as Katya opens spotify, explaining all she has to do is type in an artist’s name to get their entire body of work. She isn’t surprised when Trixie puts on Dolly Parton, and watches as Trixie’s shoulders relax when she hears the familiar opening chords of Here You Come Again.

Trixie offers to help with the french toast, confidence spreading over her face as she tells Katya she’s good at cooking, that she always helps her mama. She tends to the stove as Katya moves around making coffee and tea, and they exist in what Katya thinks is comfortable silence as Dolly Parton’s voice floods their kitchen.

They sit across from each other at the kitchen island and eat their french toast and sip at their respective drinks. Katya would think that it was nice, almost familiar, if she wasn’t losing her fucking mind with nerves.

“So what do you have planned for today?” Trixie asks.

It occurs to Katya that she should have thought this through more thoroughly, but forgives herself as she realizes she’s hardly had the chance.

“Um, well, there are those photo albums we could look through? The doctor said that taking you to familiar places might be good, so we could do that?” She’s looking at Trixie, waiting for an answer - or scratch that, waiting for any sort of positive sign from Trixie - when she watches the woman in front of her jump in fright.

Katya jumps too and feels their comfortable silence shatter, hearing their Dolly Parton song get cut off by the shrill tone of her cell phone ringing.

“ _Shit_ \- sorry Trix, just one sec.” Katya’s about to decline the call when she sees it’s from Jinkx, and she knows it has to be about the center. She looks nervously up at Trixie, who’s looking down at her tea and avoiding Katya’s eyes. “I’m real sorry, it’s about the center, I’ll just be one second.” Katya deconnects her phone from the kitchen speaker and goes into the kitchen so she can tell Jinkx to fuck off in the kindest way possible.

“Jinkx,” Katya whisper-yells into the phone. “I’m sorry, but whatever it is, figure it out.”

“ _Katya_ \- oh my god, you guys, Katya picked up-” Katya can hear Jinkx talking to other people not on the line, and wonders just how flustered they all are down there. “-Katya, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I know that now is _not_ the time, is like the absolute _worst_ of times-”

“Yes, it is,” Katya agrees. She glances back at Trixie and sees her ankles are crossed underneath her.

“-that’s why I’m so sorry, kid, but we need you down here - it’ll only take a few minutes! Not even a few minutes, but the computer has locked everyone out of the system, and you’re the only one with the overdrive, and no one has been able to come in or out of the center all day - our waiting room is flooded, it’s completely flooded, and I would want to just let everyone in, but we need to verify membership, it’s just part of running a business and-”  
“Jinkx!” Katya thinks that if she didn’t cut her off, that could have gone on for much longer. “What is the problem - you need the computer code? I can just tell you, like, over the phone, right?”

The thing is, Katya can’t just tell her over the phone. Whatever ass hat of a tech guy set up their computer system set up about 10 security questions, all of which have glitches in them. Meanwhile, Katya can hear Jinkx trying her best to maintain the crowd that’s grown around them, and thinks that the woman is too nice, that she’s getting walked all over. Katya keeps thinking, _if only I could get down there, for just a few minutes._ She glances back at Trixie, decides it is quite literally the worst time in the world for the center to have its first computer malfunction in years. But she reasons that it’ll only be a few minutes, that the girls down there need her, and then she’s hanging up the phone and going into the bedroom to change into street clothes.

“Trixie, this is - this never happens. Like, I promise it doesn’t. But I’ve gotta fix this disaster down at the center. It’ll only take a few minutes, and I’ll be right back - oh and here’s your cell phone, if you need _anything,_ you can call me here like this…”

She’s saying all of this as quickly as she can manage, a little terrified to see what must be a look of horror, or fear, or annoyance or betrayal on Trixie’s face. Katya finishes explaining how to call people on the iPhone to Trixie, and where a few more things in the apartment are, and then she finds herself having to look Trixie in the eye.

“I’m sorry. You can’t know how sorry I am. But you’ll be okay here alone for half an hour, right?”

Trixie’s eyes are wide and strangely expressionless. Or scratch that, Katya just can’t read her expression. It’s driving her crazy, to have to relearn so much about the woman she thought she knew so well - but she doesn’t have time to linger on that now. 

Instead, she waits for Trixie’s microscopic nod, and then she’s racing out the door, already thinking about the quickest route back.

***  
Maybe Katya should have predicted it, but the holdup at the center takes way longer than she had anticipated. She’s dragged through a hell of trying to remember answers to obscure security questions, only to have to completely start over with setting up the computer system when she’s finished, all while Jinkx and her other employees play fake nice with the patrons flooding the waiting room.

By the time Katya’s got everything back online, she’s been away for about three times as long as she’d predicted, and she’s tired and nervous and every bone in her body is thrumming with _Trixie_. Jinkx tries to start profusely thanking her, but Katya cuts her off with a quick kiss on the cheeks, and then she’s scrambling out the doors trying to find her way back to her apartment. 

She spends the entire trip going through every worst-case-scenario of what could have happened to Trixie while she was gone, and she thinks that the exercise feels painfully familiar. She can almost feel the nerves leave her shoulders when she’s pushing through her doorway, until she looks around the apartment to find it completely empty.

“Trixie?” she calls. No response. “Oh God,” she says aloud, as she begins to double-triple check the kitchen, study, bedroom, and both bathrooms.

_This can’t be happening,_ Katya thinks. _I can’t fucking lose my wife, I just got her back._ That, too, feels painfully familiar.

Katya can feel her heart pounding in her chest, feels the beginning of tears prodding her eyes, when she spots a note sitting on the counter.

It’s written in Trixie’s familiar, loopy cursive, and Katya almost feels a bout of relief.

_Katya,_  
Went out for a little bit to explore. Be back soon. Hope everything goes okay at the center.  
-Trixie

Katya reads the note over and over again and processes two things.

One, it feels lovely and comforting to see Trixie’s familiar handwriting again, and Katya probably thinks too much about that little remark about things at the center. It’s so simple, but Katya thinks that Trixie’s so sweet, that she’s her sweetest girl.

Two - which is the more logical and comparably more adult side of her brain - starts to process the fact that Trixie went out to “explore.” She contemplates what that could mean, and finds herself going back and forth in a loop of panic. Her first instinct is to find Trixie, to track her down immediately, to drag her back to the apartment to make sure that she’s safe. On the other hand, Trixie already has a visible amount of fear or resentment or something toward Katya, and she desperately doesn’t want to intensify that by stepping on her toes.

Katya spends the next few hours going back and forth in this sort of panic, contemplating calling Trixie, then telling herself she’s crazy, then grabbing her jacket to walk around Manhattan until she finds her, then deciding she’s being overprotective.

This goes on for long enough for Katya to realize she’s forgotten to eat lunch, grab something from the fridge, then sit down to read, when she realizes she’s being crazy.

Trixie - who has just woken up from a coma, who thinks she has never been to New York in her life, who barely knows what an iPhone is, is alone in New York. Katya should have called her the moment she got home.

With her heart pounding in her ears, Katya opens Trixie’s contact information and calls her cell, praying she took it with her. Trixie picks up on the third ring and Katya feels relief run through her, until she hears Trixie’s voice.

“ _Katya_.” Oh shit, Katya thinks. Trixie is definitely crying. 

“Okay, okay, calm down baby, what’s wrong?” She’s panicked enough to not even stress out about the fact that she’s just called Trixie baby.

“I….I’m just,” she’s sniffling and Katya feels something instinctive in her heart sink. She wants to reach out to Trixie, to hold her. “...I have no idea where I am, and I thought I could remember where the apartment was, because all the streets are numbered here - but then I was walking and I was looking at everything and I got distracted and I just forgot - and I had my phone but I couldn’t figure out how to call you, and I was so scared....”

“Trixie - Trixie, I need you to calm down.” Katya’s already scrambling for her jacket, her keys. “I will be there as soon as possible. I just need you to give me some sort of indication of where you are.”

They spend countless minutes on the phone that mostly consist of Trixie sniffling while Katya tries to stay calm, despite the fact that she feels like her bones are going to crawl out of her skin. Trixie’s naming landmarks around her that could really be just about anywhere in New York, and they’re both getting more and more scared and frustrated until Katya realizes she can just talk Trixie through sharing her location. That in and of itself is a strain of a process, but it works, and then Katya realizes that Trixie is only ten blocks away.

“Okay, okay - Trixie? I need you to stay right where you are, I’m coming to get you.”

“It’s cold, Katya.” 

Katya glances outside and realizes that the sun has gone down. 

“I’ll bring you a jacket baby, it’ll just be a few minutes. Just - _please_ promise me you’ll stay where you are.”

Trixie meekly promises, and then Katya is grabbing a coat for Trixie and busting out the door.

Katya walks with blood pounding in her ears, briefly wondering if she should take an uber, but deciding that the traffic would just make it all a thousand times worse. So she walks until she sees a familiar, pale figure curled in on herself, and she feels relief roll off her shoulders.

Katya watches as that same relief spreads across Trixie’s face, as to Katya’s surprise, she’s reaching out with her arms. Katya thinks that she might cry. Her first instinct is to wrap Trixie in her arms, to hold her close until she’s warm and safe, to squeeze her tight until she knows she’s loved.

But Trixie isn’t reaching for Katya. She’s making a grab for the coat Katya’s carrying, and sighs in relief as she pulls it over her shoulders. 

“Are you okay?” Katya chances placing a hand on her back once she’s settled into her coat - only to watch Trixie practically flinch away. When Katya looks closer she sees dried tears on Trixie’s pink cheeks, and she wants to kiss them away just as much as she knows it’s not her place to. The realization is crushing the more she lets it sink in to her.

“Can we just get back? Please?” Katya’s nodding, leading Trixie down the street. She tries not to think about how Trixie walks slightly behind her rather than at her side. She looks so incredibly young, Katya can’t look at Trixie without feeling the intensity of it press into her.

When they get back to the apartment, Trixie immediately goes to escape in their room, muttering something about just needing a few minutes alone. Katya hears the door close and collapses on the couch. She’s overwhelmed with the urge to tear herself apart.

She feels like she’s been trying so hard ever since they left the hospital, and she just keeps managing to get it wrong, to fuck it up. She thinks that she would cry if she had anything left in her. But sitting on the couch with her head in her hands, all Katya can feel is exhaustion fading into something that feels numb.

The only reason she can get off the couch is the knowledge that if she lets herself stop moving, she’ll just break down. And she’s broken down enough over the span of the last few months. She has to keep going because it’s the only thing she knows. So she gets up and finds herself in the kitchen, making something she’s known Trixie’s liked since she was at least 15.

Katya lets herself get lost in the routine of it, throwing ingredients together while she softly sings to whichever ABBA song she’s put on shuffle. She hooked up her phone to the kitchen speakers and took Waterloo off her playlist for what she believes to be obvious reasons. She hears the shower run in the other room and feels warm for Trixie, hopes she feels safe and good as the water rushes over her shoulders.

When Trixie peaks her head out of the bedroom, she’s back in the Victoria Secret’s pajamas from the night before, but now she’s got a white cardigan draped over her shoulders, with fuzzy socks and slippers on her feet. Her hair is wet and her cheeks are pink, and Katya thinks she looks more at peace than she’s looked all day.

“Hi, Trix,” Katya says, anxious to fill the silence. “I made grilled cheese and tomato soup, do you wanna grab some plate and utensils so we can eat by the TV?”

A few beats of silence pass, and Katya turns around to look at Trixie, who’s been opening and closing her mouth. When she finally speaks it’s quiet.

“I’m sorry, Katya.”

Katya stops what she’s doing, turns her whole attention on the woman in front of her, who’s speaking with a cracked voice and teary eyes.

“Bab- _Trixie,_ why are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

Katya takes a seat at one of the stools by their island and watches as Trixie sits down beside her.

“I don’t know why I thought I could just go out and explore New York like I had any idea where I was going or what I should do or how to even work my cell phone - when I saw you were calling I just pressed the green button and hoped for the best, but if you hadn’t I don’t know how long I would have been out there. I just…” Trixie lets out a big sigh, and Katya feels the heaviness of it. “I feel so useless and confused.”

Katya straightens herself. “Let’s get one thing clear, okay? You, Trixie Mattel, are not useless. Not even close. You’re kind and wonderful and so incredibly smart. The second thing - no, you probably shouldn’t have gone out there on your own, but you know what? It’s okay - you’re back here now, and you’re safe, and you learned to do better, and that makes it okay. And number three.”

Katya pauses, takes a breath, notices how Trixie’s fidgeting with the sleeves of her cardigan. “This is going to be hard.” Katya didn’t realize it would be this difficult to keep her voice from cracking. “It’s going to be so, incredibly hard for the both of us, but it’s going to be okay. You just - can you promise me something?”

Trixie hesitates, but then she’s nodding.

“You have to promise to be honest with me. If you’re feeling scared or annoyed or confused or nervous, you have to tell me. I can’t promise that I’m always going to have the perfect answer for everything, but I can promise you that I’ll try my best. Believe or not, we know each other pretty well, and even before we knew each other, we were good for each other. So, Trixie, can you promise me that no matter what, you’ll be completely honest?”

Maybe Katya’s imagining it, but she could swear that Trixie’s eyes have gotten even redder. She’s hesitating for so long that Katya’s almost scared she’s going to refuse. But then she’s nodding, and Katya releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding.

“Okay. So, starting right now, we’re both completely honest with each other. Is there anything you want me to know?”

Trixie’s brows furrow, and she glances from Katya to the living room to the kitchen, where finally her eyes linger.

“Um. Can we use white bread for the grilled cheese? I don’t like whole wheat.”

Katya smiles. “Is rye okay?”

Trixie nods, and she’s smiling, too. “That’s perfect.”

They eat on the couch in front of an episode of Will and Grace that Trixie hasn’t seen before. Trixie even makes a joke about how this is the one good thing about losing her memory.

“I guess I have ten years worth of favorite tv shows to catch up on,” she says with a small smile. Katya’s chest flutters at the thought. She thinks she’ll compile a list of books and tv shows and movies and music that she knows Trixie loves, thinks she’ll put them all in a basket for Trixie to pour over as much as she pleases.

They watch a few episodes together on the couch, and Katya delights in hearing how Trixie’s laugh breaks through the air. It’s the happiest she’s looked and sounded since they came back from the hospital, and by the third episode, Katya is watching the woman next to her more than she’s paying attention to the people on their screen.

Eventually, Katya spots Trixie’s eyes growing heavier, and she decides that this will be their last episode. When Katya turns the TV off, she watches Trixie startle, and then sees her grow more relaxed. Despite the stress of the day, Katya thinks that Trixie looks warm and clean and incredibly comfy wrapped in her slippers and her cardigan and her soft pajamas. She looks considerably more comfortable than she had the previous night, and Katya finds herself smiling around it, thinks it’s a positive sign.

“I think we should both head off to bed soon,” Katya says. Trixie nods but hesitates, remaining on the couch. Katya keeps her gaze steady, and tries to nonverbally encourage Trixie to say whatever she needs.

“Um...you know how yesterday you were talking about the photo album and um...some of my favorite places?”

“Yes,” Katya says. She keeps her voice steady yet soft, like Trixie is a baby animal she’s trying not to scare away.

“I was wondering….well, tomorrow’s Saturday, I was thinking, if you didn’t have work...maybe we could do that?”

Katya smiles and feels warmth spread through her.

“That sounds like a wonderful idea, Trixie. And one of the best things about being your own boss is getting to decide when you’re gonna give yourself the day off, and I talked with Ms. Zamo, and she says I should be free.” Trixie giggles, and Katya lets a small smile spread across her face. “I know exactly where to take you, Trix.” 

_And you’re gonna love it._

__Trixie has a small smile on her face and her cheeks are a rosy pink. Katya has to resist the wild urge to reach over and kiss her softly, but she decides to thank the universe for giving this woman back to her at all rather than be resentful because of the details._ _

__Trixie pads off to bed a few minutes later, after Katya’s gotten a change of pajamas from their room. Maybe she imagines it, but she could swear that Trixie hesitates before closing the door, that her gaze is lingering on Katya up until Katya looks at her again._ _

__“Goodnight, Trix,” she waves to her._ _

__“Goodnight, Katya.”_ _

__That night, Katya’s bones are thrumming, but she sleeps more soundly than she has in a long while._ _

__***_ _

__The next day is warm, and Katya decides to wear a long-sleeved peasant shirt and her flowy, soft pants. They’re black and red and have eyes scattered all over them. Katya bought them because they reminded her of Pan’s Labyrinth._ _

__Katya watches as Trixie’s face lights up when she looks outside and sees the sun shining bright, then goes into their bedroom and reemerges in a yellow sundress that Katya knows well. She looks soft and beautiful, and Katya’s heart is overflowing with it._ _

__Katya’s decided to take them to a farmer’s market a few blocks away from their apartment. It’s hosted in a square in the middle of town, and vendors sell everything from home-grown vegetables to hand-maid dresses and jewelry. When Trixie and Katya had first gotten the apartment they live in now, they used to get up early nearly every weekend so that they got there in time to get their hands on the best products. But then as time went on and they grew more stable and more tired, they started going less and less frequently until they stopped visiting it altogether. Katya thinks that she can’t wait for Trixie’s eyes to light up when she sees the place Katya knows she loves and feels like she’s looking at it for the first time._ _

__They don’t talk much on the way there, but Katya has them stop at little a coffee shop on the way the way that she knows to be one of Trixie’s favorites._ _

__“I love the colors,” Trixie says as they stand in line, smiling around at the pink and green wallpaper and furniture. Katya smiles and is tempted to say, I know. But instead she just widens her smile and tells Trixie the best parts of the menu._ _

__When they finally get to the farmer’s market, Katya finds her heart fluttering as she watches Trixie’s eyes open wide. She just knows that Trixie must feel going crazy at the amount of individuality and skill that goes into every product. Katya thinks that she’d buy her all of it, send them impossibly further into debt so that she could see Trixie showered in bright pink watermelon and soft, handmade scarves._ _

__At first Trixie is mostly quiet, only making small comments here or there when she sees a piece of jewelry she particularly likes, or a fruit stand that she thinks is especially cute. It’s a little awkward and Katya starts doing everything she can to shrug the feeling off. So to fill the gaps, Katya finds herself talking a mile a minute, spouting out random facts about every item and booth they pass, making comments about what would look best on Trixie just to watch her eyes soften, cracking jokes at every chance she gets just to make Trixie laugh._ _

__Katya is overwhelmed with the feeling that she’s in college again, flirting with Trixie at an outrageous intensity, making her mouth go dry with the amount she’s singing her praise. She tells herself it must be working, because before too long, Trixie’s shoulders have relaxed considerably, and her features look softer, like she’s more at ease._ _

__For most of the day, Katya’s let Trixie lead the way in terms of stopping and spending time at booths. She wants this day to be for her, so they spend twenty minutes talking to a vendor who makes pink socks and scarves, linger at a stand that makes custom guitars. But then they stumble upon a booth that mostly consists of crystals and elixirs and tapestries with strange patterns, and katya finds that she can’t resist._ _

__“Hey Trix, you mind if we stop at this one?”_ _

__Trixie looks to be half in a daze, a little smile plastered on her face and content flooding her hooded eyes._ _

__“Sure,” she chirps, dutifully trailing behind Katya._ _

__Katya hovers over the crystals in awe, running her hands over the pale, silver pendants with Latin inscriptions and the earrings with giant figures hanging from them._ _

__“Looking for something in particular?” the vendor asks. She’s an older woman with wild gray hair, and she’s wearing a dress that might double as a toga. The lesbian energy is dripping off of her, and Katya thinks she’s the type of person she’d ask out for tea, just to hear her talk about spells and potions._ _

__“Oh, no, just browsing,” Katya says. Her voice trails off as her eyes linger on a set of earrings. They’re a pair of silver hands hanging upside down with red circles in the center. They’re cute and well made and give off a vibe that Katya thinks it’s her goal to emanate._ _

__“We’ll take these, please.” Katya is startled by the sound of Trixie’s voice. She’d nearly forgotten that the woman was lingering behind her, but there she is, smiling hopefully with twinkling eyes._ _

__“These ones right here?” The vendore gestures at the silver and red hands, and Trixie nods._ _

__“For her,” Trixie gestures to Katya and Katya swears she can feel her chest soar into the wispy clouds above them. Trixie just keeps smiling and glances at Katya, says softly - albeit hesitantly, “You look like you liked them, right?”_ _

__All Katya can do is nod, focusing on swallowing the lump in her throat. She takes in how pretty and good Trixie looks with her glowing eyes and her yellow dress. Still my same sweet girl, she thinks, feels a rush of hope go through her._ _

__The vendor starts to package the earrings, and Katya finds herself protesting, says she’ll wear them now. She does it in part because they’re damn cute, and she wants to wear them throughout her day, but mostly because she gets to watch a smile spread across Trixie’s face. It seems to work, because as Katya places the jewelry in her ears, she watches Trixie’s cheeks grow impossibly pinker._ _

__After that, Trixie is noticeably more open and comfortable. She begins to talk nearly as much as Katya, making comments on nearly every booth they pass and almost leaning into Katya as she does so. All Katya can do is smile and watch her, hanging on to every word she says, feeling her heart overflow with it all._ _

__By late afternoon the vendors begin to pack up, and Trixie and Katya decide to find a food truck so they can grab something and eat in a park nearby._ _

__As they stand in line at a Mediterranean food truck, Trixie quietly asks Katya if she’s still a vegetarian._ _

__“Yup,” Katya confirms. “Twenty years strong.” When she says it, Trixie gets a look in her eye that Katya can’t quite read. It’s not exactly excited, but it’s warm and good, and Katya thinks that she wants to get that look back more and more._ _

__They quietly eat on a bench in a nearby park, and Katya’s content to people watch in silence. But she catches on to the fact that Trixie’s stopped eating and looks fidgety and restless beside her._ _

__“What’s on your mind?” Katya asks. Trixie looks like she’s been startled, and Katya almost wants to apologize, but decides against it. “Remember, Trix, we promised that to make this work, we’d be honest with each other. You can talk to me.”_ _

__Trixie looks down in her lap, and hesitates for so long that Katya starts to think she’s not going to say anything at all. But then Trixie is putting her food to the side and looks determinedly at Katya._ _

__“What did I major in in college?”_ _

__It’s not what Katya was expecting, but she finds herself more than happy to answer, nonetheless._ _

__“Musical theory with a minor in communications.”_ _

__Trixie hums, seems to mull this over, and then is quickly looking at Katya again._ _

__“What was my first job out of college?”_ _

__“You worked at a makeup counter and taught guitar at local schools.”_ _

__“Did I learn any languages in college?”_ _

__“Nope.”_ _

__“Any instruments?”_ _

__“The autoharp and a little but of mandolin.” This seems to please Trixie, who smiles as she takes this information in. “You’d probably still be able to play them, I think. Dr. Klein said with retrograde amnesia you retain your semantic memories. So like, muscle memories.”_ _

__Trixie nods and hums to herself._ _

__“How did my mom take my coming out?”_ _

__Katya sighs, and figures she should have seen this coming._ _

__“She was a little shocked at first, I’m not gonna lie. You’re pretty high femme, girlie, so you tend to take more than your mama by surprise. The night you told her she wasn’t mad, just needed to be alone to take it in.” Katya pauses as she tries to decide whether or not to tell Trixie what she’s thinking, before deciding fuck it and speaking softly. “I stayed with you on the phone all night, and you cried and I cried and I was so sorry because I felt like I did that to you, like being in a relationship with me was what made you feel like you needed to come out.” Katya nearly jumps when she feels Trixie’s hand on her arm._ _

__“I’m sure it wasn’t your fault. I don’t want you to feel that way.” Katya puts her hand over Trixie’s, gives it a squeeze and gets a rush of memories as she thinks about all the times she held this unconscious hand, trying so hard to will life back into the fingers._ _

__“By the morning, your mama had a whole laundry list of how she should have known. It started with all the Dolly Parton posters and ended with the fact that you never had a boyfriend in high school, despite being the prettiest little thing in the whole town.” Trixie blushes beside her, looks down at their linked hands._ _

__“So she was okay with it?”_ _

__“More than okay, baby.” Katya thinks about stopping herself from using the endearment, but decides it might make Trixie blush all pretty again, so she goes ahead, and finds that she’s right. “You came to my house on Thanksgiving our junior year and I went home with you for Thanksgiving our senior year. Our mothers were smitten with us respectively, if I do say so myself. They were over the moon when we told them about the wedding.”_ _

__Trixie smiles and squeezes Katya’s hand again. When she speaks again, her voice is the quietest it’s been all day._ _

__“What happened with Johnny and Bella?”_ _

__Katya lets out a breath of air, and figures she should have predicted this question, too._ _

__“Well, you and Bella stopped talking right about around the time that she started bringing home homophobic boyfriends and became extremely invigorated with the Westboro Baptist Church.”_ _

__“Geez,” Trixie breathes. “Is it bad if I say I’m not super surprised? I mean, her political views started getting real….right-leaning when we were in high school, and she’s always had bullies for boyfriends.”_ _

__“Is ‘bullies’ a euphemism for cum-guzzling jockstraps?”_ _

__Trixie snorts and then she’s shaking with laughter._ _

__“I guess so, yeah. So...Johnny?”_ _

__Katya looks away from Trixie, and then squeezes her hand again._ _

__“Trixie, Johnny overdosed. I’m so sorry.”_ _

__Trixie’s brother was twelve years her senior, and in all honesty, they barely knew each other. He was so deeply attached to the father Trixie had barely known that they found themselves to be mostly strangers. He had suffered from drug addiction since Trixie was in middle school, and when they got the phone call from Pam, it took three days for Trixie to finally cry. They were both overwhelmed with the sensation of having lost someone they loved but barely knew, and their respective therapists had gotten earfuls. They got healthy coping mechanisms and king reassurances in return._ _

__“Maybe this is also bad...but I’m not all that surprised about that, either?”_ _

__Katya nods, squeezes Trixie’s hand again._ _

__“You don’t have to feel bad, Trixie. You shouldn’t. You barely knew him, and none of us really knew how to react.”_ _

__Trixie nods and leans into Katya more. They’re quiet for a few more drawn-out moments, and then Trixie is looking to Katya again._ _

__“So, how did we meet?”_ _

__Katya smiles and feels warmth spread through her. Out of all the questions Trixie would have for her, she was looking forward to this one the most._ _

__“Well, it was our sophomore year and we were in a musical theater class together. I saw you across the room and immediately went to sit beside you, you were so pretty….”_ _

__***_ _

__It’s not perfect, but Katya decides that it’s close enough._ _

__They talk for hours in the park, until it’s dark and cold enough that they want to be indoors. When they get back to the apartment and order in Thai, and Katya watches as Trixie is mesmerized with all the dishes she’s never heard of or doesn’t understand. At 18, Trixie had barely left the midwest._ _

__Trixie finally wears her soft flannel pajamas and a Dolly shirt that night, and they spend more hours huddled on the couch as Katya rattles off every memory she can muster from their ten year relationship. All the while, Trixie bushes or smiles or listens with wide eyes. They’re still both fidgety and awkward and a lot of it is painfully stunted. But it’s better than radio silence, so Katya swallows all the lumps in her throat and decides to be grateful._ _

__The night ends when Katya breaks out an old photo album and Trixie’s eyes grow red as she runs her fingers across a picture of them at 19 years old. It occurs to Katya that Trixie’s looking at a picture of herself that’s the most recent version of Trixie that she remembers. Katya can’t imagine what it feels like, can’t wrap her head around what Trixie must be feeling. So she sits in silence as Trixie rakes her eyes over the photos, and answers any questions she has._ _

__They only look at two pages before Trixie’s asking to go to bed. It’s not all that late and there’s tons more they could look at, but Katya can see how overwhelmed Trixie is, practically shaking beside her on the couch._ _

__“Katya?” Trixie says softly once Katya’s grabbed her pajamas and blankets out of the bedroom. Katya sits on the couch beside her and hugs the blankets close to her chest. “Thank you for today.”_ _

__Katya smiles and thinks that she can feel her heart twitch._ _

__“Of course, Trix. It was my pleasure.” _More than you can know,_ she thinks. But she tries not to linger at that thought. It kind of feels like getting punched in the chest. “Do you wanna pick up where we left off tomorrow?” Katya had told Trixie stories about them in chronological order, and made it up to their proposal before they busted out the photo albums._ _

__“Um, I was thinking maybe I could try to go out with one of my friends? Like, that girl Kim, maybe?”_ _

__“Oh, honey, I think that’s a great idea.” As much as Katya wants to burrow Trixie in her arms, keep the world from touching or tainting her, she realizes how helpful it would be for Trixie to talk to someone other than herself. “Do you want me call her?”_ _

__“I think I can do it. I’ve been fiddling with the cell phone a lot and I think I know how to figure it out.” Trixie says it with what looks like a swell of pride and Katya feels her chest flutter. _That’s my girl,_ she thinks fondly, and has to keep herself from reaching out and stroking Trixie’s cheek. They had made progress today, but she didn’t want to do something that might freak Trixie out and send them multiple steps back._ _

__“Okay. Are you gonna be okay if I go into the center tomorrow? I can reschedule or give myself the day off again.”_ _

__“No, I should be fine.” Trixie smiles and Katya thinks that she believes her._ _

__“Okay. Well, goodnight, girlie.”_ _

__“Goodnight, Katya.” Trixie’s voice is soft and her eyes are even softer, and Katya’s thinks that she feels like a dumb 19-year-old falling in love all over again._ _

__When Katya goes to sleep that night, she wonders if Trixie will let her hug her again soon, or hold her hand in public. It’s familiar and exciting and strange and scary all at the same time. Katya falls asleep with the little earrings Trixie had picked out sitting on the coffee tables across from her, and she thinks that if she tries hard enough, she can feel Trixie’s arms around her._ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- thank you as always to the lovely, wonderful, talented @33rdthwoorp for keysmashing at me and weeding through my grammatical errors  
> \- the yellow dress Trixie wears in this chapter was inspired by the yellow dress I bought from irl Trixie at her garage sale, and the little hand earrings were inspired by a pair I bought at a street market in Berkeley  
> \- as always, you can find me on tungle @katyasghoulfriend :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya finishes her lunch and when she stands up, she has a bounce in her step. Something new yet familiar is alight inside of her. 
> 
> She is going to romance the shit out of her wife.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! This chapter is LONG and pretty plot heavy and it was one of the hardest for me to write just because so much of the story moves forward here, but I'm very happy with how it turned out.
> 
> A lot of this chapter is about romance and two women falling for each other, so of course (as always) I find myself in a position where I'd be lost without my editor, my muse, my best friend, @33rdThwoorp. This story couldn't be what it is without you.
> 
> Anyways, please let me know what you think! I'm back in school now and email notifications about comments/kudos on this story are always the highlight of my day. Enjoy these lesbians!!

Trixie had gone to sleep an 18-year-old worried she wasn’t going to accepted into a single college and woken up a 29-year-old with a wife and a job and an apartment in New York.

Her first instinct when she woke up in that damn hospital bed with about forty wires connected to her was that she had decided to go with her friend Maryanne to Robbie Cunningham’s party, and something bad had happened. They had been talking about the party all week, with Trixie adamantly insisting that Robbie’s parties were trashy and flooded with gross beer. In reality, she was absolutely sure the only reason she had been invited in the first place was that Robbie was trying to hook up with her, which was a situation her teenaged closeted self was trying desperately to avoid.

But then she was blinking her eyes open to a woman beside her speaking softly like they knew each other, and her parents and siblings weren’t anywhere in sight, and when her mother did emerge she looked about a decade older. 

Trixie had spent that day in the hospital feeling like she was in a rampant fever dream, like any moment she’d get to wake up and be in her warm twin bed in Wisconsin, wrapped around the pink sheets she’d picked out at the the new IKEA in town, go back to Mrs. Hathaway’s English class on Monday and listen to the Saunders twins gossip about who had gotten trashed at Robbie’s party.

But she didn’t get her bed back or her friends or anything else that was even remotely familiar to her. Instead, her day consisted of getting put through machine after machine as needles were stuck into her and nice women in scrubs jotted down numbers that signified things going on in her body.

None of it had really sunken in or felt real until her mother was gently putting a mirror in her hands, and she almost broke down in shock then and there.

Looking back at her was the face of a 29-year-old woman. She still had her freckles but they were considerably more pale, and her lips were the same shade of pink but somehow plumper. She ran her fingers over the cheekbones and jawline that felt she knew so well, but found them to be rounded out with fat and extra skin. Her eyes managed to not look familiar at all, like they belonged to an older, wiser woman who worked in a book store and told stories about her children. She didn’t even think they looked the same shade of blue. She had laughter lines where she used to have baby fat and scars she didn’t remember receiving, both physical and somewhere underneath her.

She found herself putting a hand over her mouth so that she didn’t cry out, felt her mama put a steadying hand on her shoulder.

Even standing up was uncomfortable and strange. Her hips had settled out and widened, and she had lost her baby fat while growing into her curves. Her breasts were large and heavy and her thighs were soft and weighty. She was living inside the body of a woman she didn’t know, and it terrified her. 

She was told that she had been in a car accident, a coma, and that she had a wife and home waiting for her that were utterly unfamiliar.

Watching her mama walk away with the knowledge that she was going back to Wisconsin and leaving her alone in a city she was afraid of and didn’t understand was enough to make her want to break down again. Her mama had been the only source of comfort in this nightmare she was trying to navigate, and once she left, the nightmare was just her life.

The past few days since she’d returned home from the hospital had been confusing and strange, as Trixie tried her hardest to navigate what people were telling her was her life. 

She had a body she felt removed from, a home she didn’t know her way around, a job she didn’t know how to do and friends she hadn’t met. And then on top of and intertwined with everything she was trying to learn was _Katya._

Katya, who was smart and funny and _gorgeous_ and so overflowing with love for Trixie it almost gave her a headache. The first few times she had been in a room with Katya, Trixie found that she could hardly look at her. It was like Katya was pouring want and tenderness and affection and love into Trixie so intensely, and Trixie just didn’t know what to do with any of it. 

It took Trixie minutes upon stepping into their shared apartment to realize that she and Katya had been exceptionally and irrevocably in love. 

It was like Trixie had hand-picked every aspect of the apartment, only to hand it off to someone who knew and understood her more acutely than anyone else. The finished product was something personal yet refined, familiar yet exciting, perfect and imperfect in the most spectacular way.

Having Katya wasn’t exactly like waking up to her dream girl. In reality, Trixie didn’t think she had ever clearly picture the type of woman she wanted to fall in love with. But from the beginning of her teenage years, Trixie knew that she loved women, could only love women, and only wanted to be loved by women for as long as she lived. She loved their curves and their breasts, their humor and their thoughtfulness, their complexity and their pain. She had come into her teenage years touching herself to pictures of Dolly Parton, but if Dolly had a darker sense of humor - maybe that would be her perfect woman. 

So waking up to Katya couldn’t be like waking up to her dream girl because Trixie didn’t have a dream girl at all. She had a vague notions of women and things she loved or admired about them, scattered far and wide into something complex and abstract. Katya seemed to be the epitome of everything she loved best about women, everything she hadn’t known she could love.

And Katya loved her so much. It was apparent in everything she did, from the way she made her tea in the morning to the way she softly said goodnight. It was exhilarating and terrifying and exciting and painful. Katya had been nothing but unapologetically open with Trixie since she’d come home from the hospital, and Trixie couldn’t help but to close herself off. 

In truth, she was afraid that she wasn’t the Trixie that Katya had fallen in love with. 

She definitely wasn’t the 29-year-old Katya was married to. It was like everything that Katya knew Trixie to be made up of hadn’t happened to her yet, hadn’t become part of her. Katya loved her so, so much and Trixie was afraid of that love dimming, of it fading away altogether.

The farmer’s market had been a good start. Trixie was finding herself more comfortable, and Katya was responding with surprised smiles and warm eyes. Trixie decided that she wanted to keep Katya’s eyes warm, to make her laugh and laugh until there were tears streaming down her cheeks.

The week following that day at the farmer’s market is overwhelming and scary and good. 

Trixie finds herself positively determined to navigate the technology that she’s missed out on, and it takes her a singular, albeit long, nearly-sleepless night, of fiddling with her phone and laptop to get a proficient grip on both devices. 

She sets up a lunch with the girl named Kim, and it’s awkward and a little painful, but it’s also fun and refreshing. The girl is extremely nice, and Trixie has no trouble understanding what drew them to each other. 

Katya starts to go back to work, and Trixie tells her she spends her days at home reading and rewatching TV and relearning everything about the decade she’d missed out on. In reality, she spends it hunched over a laptop, applying for jobs and registering for classes, drafting and editing essays and resumes until her eyes go numb.

The thing about Katya and Kim and even her mother is that since she’s woken up, everyone has spent their time telling Trixie about herself. They tell her about what school she’s gone to, about trips she’s taken, about jobs she’s had, like these are supposed to help her piece together their version of Trixie Mattel until she can get back to her. Everyone seems to have their energies pointed toward getting back the Trixie they _know,_ while no one has seems particularly concerned about getting to learn the Trixie is. 

It hurts, and it’s strange, and it’s something that keeps Trixie up at night. But the more she thinks about it, the more she can’t blame them.

What person in their late twenties-early thirties wants an 18-year-old as their best friend, their co-worker, their wife? At 18, Trixie barely knew who she was. At 29, she’s trying to get to know herself.

It’s the middle of the week and Trixie sets her alarm early enough so that she’s waking up just as Katya is leaving. She doesn’t want to be in the way while Katya’s getting ready, but she likes to see her off before she goes. 

Trixie runs her hands over the patterned sheets before stretching her arms over her head and pulling on a bathrobe over her pajamas, and then she’s joining Katya in the kitchen.

Katya is bustling around quickly with a flushed face as she scrambles to make coffee and tea and hashbrowns. She doesn’t notice Trixie at first, and Trixie enjoys the moment as she takes in this glimpse into Katya’s private self.

“Oh! Trix, good morning.” The moment Katya sees her, her face explodes with a smile and her eyes become visibly brighter. It used to overwhelm Trixie, but she’s starting to like it, thinks Katya’s flushed cheeks are a pretty pink and her gray eyes are old and beautiful.

“Good morning, Katya,” Trixie says. She sits down at one of the stools by the kitchen table and wraps her hands around the mug of tea that Katya’s set out for her. Trixie’s gradually getting used to the things about Katya that used to stun her, and instead they’re making her heart leap. Katya never fails to forget something about Trixie, to go out of her way to do something for her. It makes Trixie’s chest pool with warmth.

“Anything cool happening today at the center?” Trixie asks.

“Ugh. Not particularly. I’ve got about forty meetings and enough caffeine in me for about half of that. You?”

“Oh yeah, huge plans. Might get a promotion today. I’m thinking about reading on one of these stools instead of the couch.”

That makes Katya laugh, and Trixie’s smiling to herself. The sound makes something warm go through her.

“You know, I really think you’d like to check out the center one of these days,” Katya says. She avoids Trixie’s eye, which Trixie’s noticed she does when she’s scared of how Trixie will respond. Trixie wants to explain to her that there’s nothing Katya can do that will be too much. She just doesn’t know how. 

“I’d really like that, Katya.” When Trixie says it Katya’s head snaps up, and Trixie has to take a sip from her tea to keep from laughing. “Anytime you want. My schedule isn’t exactly super packed at the moment.”

Katya laughs and Trixie finds her eyes lingering on Katya’s lips. It’s not the first time she’s thought about what it would be like to kiss her.

“Okay, baby, how about some time next week?”

Trixie nods.

“Sure.”

Katya finishes chugging her coffee and scarfing down her hashbrowns with a little smile on her face and light in her eyes, and Trixie’s smiling around her mug. Katya leaves enough food for Trixie before rushing out the door, and then Trixie’s alone.

Trixie finishes her hashbrowns and then she’s bringing her laptop into the living room, sipping at her tea while she pulls up a few of her applications. She had originally considered applying to a four year university, before realizing that she technically already has a degree, she doesn’t want to make Katya pay tens of thousands of dollars for her education, and she desperately doesn’t want to be the only 29-year-old in a classroom full of young adults.

She had met with a woman named Thorgy earlier this week, who she apparently worked with in the recording studio. The woman all but insisted that she just come back to work, that she would be fine, but it didn’t sit right with Trixie. She didn’t want to just be handed a job - she wanted to earn it. So she applied to community colleges and night classes that let her take a few classes about musical theory and communications in an effort to actually learn about the subjects she had degrees in.

Meanwhile, she’s been applying to jobs that require zero experience, but sound like things she can do and is interested in. She doesn’t exactly feel like being a barista or bussing tables, so she looks for things like jobs at makeup counters or positions as hostesses. She wants to sell things and talk to people and start to feel like a person again.

So she spends the day refining and even sending off some of her applications, crossing her fingers and hoping for the best. Trixie makes a trip to a cafe down the street for lunch - she doesn’t get viscerally terrified about going outside and getting lost anymore, not even after that one _horrible_ day - and watches some Will and Grace until Katya gets home.

It’s an okay life, but Trixie’s bored. She wants to learn things and be challenged, to stress about deadlines and get yelled at by her boss. She wants to figure out who she is, and that involves working to become someone she likes. 

When Katya gets home, Trixie feels relief wash over her. _Stimulation. Conversation. Thank God._ The only person she’s spoken to today other than Katya was the cashier at the cafe she’s visited, and she feels like if she watches one more episode of Will and Grace, her head will explode.

“Hi, Katya,” Trixie smiles, looks up from the couch. But her smile fades as she takes in the look on Katya’s face. Her usual sweet, albeit tired features, are locked into a state of shock. “Katya?” The last thing she needs is another disaster, Trixie thinks as Katya turns to look at her.

“Jinkx and Dela are getting married.”

***

Nine Years Before

No one was surprised when Trixie and Katya announced they were getting married. Their friends had sighed with phrases like “of course” and “well it’s about time.” But the people who were least surprised of all were their mothers.

Katya’s mom said she knew Trixie was the one within hours of meeting her, said the love she had for Katya was pouring out of her. 

_Mothers know these things, Yekaterina,_ her mother had said to her over the phone. _That time you took her home for Thanksgiving, I knew you were Trixie’s and she was yours._

When Katya had first suggested that Trixie come home with her for Thanksgiving their junior year, she watched the fear spread over Trixie’s face. 

“Mama will love you,” she had insisted. “And as soon as Papa guessed I was gay when I was 13, he’s been nagging me about getting a girlfriend that looks like Gilda Radner. All we need to do is put some red dye in your hair and we’re set.” 

She had nagged Trixie with compliments and praises until she had agreed, and then they were on the train to Massachusetts, tightly gripping each other’s hands.

When it came to Katya’s family, Trixie was a natural.

The Zamolodchikova household consisted of Katya, her younger brother Shoph, her older sister Anastasia, and her parents. Within hours of entering that household, Trixie had singlehandedly won each and every one of them over. 

Trixie helps Katya’s mother with dinner and compliments her knitted potholders, shit talks American football and gentrifiers with her father, listens to her sister ramble on about her sociology classes and sits and watches as her little brother draws some of his favorite comics. She perfectly charms each and every one of them, and sings praises about Katya all the while, comfortably yet carefully keeping a hand on her lower back, an arm around her shoulders, and eventually, even intertwining their fingers.

As the weekend goes on, Katya finds herself falling more and more in love. Trixie is so respectful toward her parents and kind to her siblings, is genuinely interested in hearing about Russian culture. Even when Katya’s father goes on one of his endless rants about politics in the Kremlin makes her mother leave the room and her siblings tune out, Trixie listens amply with wide eyes.

The first night they’re there, Katya’s mother pulls Katya aside and asks if she can help her with something in the kitchen.

“I really like this girl, Yekaterina.” Katya’s mother is barely containing her smile, and Katya feels like she’s overflowing with light. Before she can help herself, she pulls her mother into a hug. “Oh, Yekat,” her mother says into her hair. 

“I like her so much, mama,” Katya mumbles into her mother’s shoulder. “I love her, mama. I really do. I told her so and everything.”

“Oh, baby. She loves you too, I can see it in everything she does.” Katya grips her mother tighter.

Trixie stays with Katya in her childhood bedroom, and that first night, after Katya is absolutely sure everyone has gone to bed, she pulls Trixie through the door and begins kissing her in earnest.

The shock is clear in Trixie’s body language, as she initially hesitates to kiss her back.

“Katya….” she breathes as Katya moves her lips to Trixie’s neck, begins to tangle her fingers in Trixie’s hair. “Katya your _parents_ are in the other room…”

“I don’t care,” Katya mumbles. She removes her lips from Trixie’s neck so she can rest their foreheads against each other. “They love you. I love you. I love you so much Trixie, fuck.” Katya begins to kiss Trixie again, slowly walks with her until the backs of Trixie’s knees are bumping into Katya’s bed. Trixie moves to sit down and Katya straddles her hips, pulls Trixie in close so she’s speaking against her lips. “I wanna make love to you in my childhood bed.”

She both watches and feels Trixie’s jaw drop, and Katya takes it as an opportunity to bite and suck on her bottom lip.

“ _Katya,_ ” Trixie breathes, placing her hands on Katya’s hips and sighing into her as they kiss and kiss and kiss.

That night, Katya fucks Trixie from behind. She has her right hand buried inside Trixie’s warmth and her left hand covering Trixie’s mouth. Katya loves the sounds Trixie makes, but she also loves waking up and being able to look her family in the eye, so that night is a desperate attempt to fuck as roughly and silently as possible. It was as if the sweeter and more domestic Trixie had gotten throughout the day, the more Katya was overcome with some animalistic desire to bend her over something and take her in the dirtiest way possible.

Eventually, Trixie ends up sucking Katya’s fingers into her mouth to keep quiet, and then Katya’s the one struggling to stifle her moans. There are so many parts of her inside Trixie, and Trixie’s just taking them all so gratefully and so good. Katya ends up burying her face into Trixie’s shoulder, muffling any sound she makes there, resisting the urge to keep herself quiet by sinking her teeth into Trixie’s warm, flushed skin.

That night they barely sleep, taking turns holding each other down to eat the other out, and then cuddling close as Trixie asks Katya to explain the trinkets in her room.

It’s a perfect weekend and Katya isn’t surprised when her mother tells her it’s the first time she knows Trixie is Katya’s “Person.” 

Trixie’s mother will eventually say the same about Katya, but it comes a bit later. When Katya goes to the Mattel’s for Thanksgiving the following year, it’s worlds different.

**Eight Years Before**

Trixie and Katya have just made up, and they’ve gone back to being practically attached at the hip. Katya tells Trixie that she wants to go back to Wisconsin with her for Thanksgiving, and watches her tense up at the suggestion. If Trixie had been hesitant to accompany Katya to Massachusetts, this is a whole other level of hesitancy that pushes into the realm of fear. Trixie finally agrees, but not without giving Katya a warning that she apparently takes very seriously.

“Katya,” she says, and there isn’t a glint of humor in her eye. Trixie and Katya have sat down on the plane together, and Trixie’s gripping Katya’s hand as if her life depended on it. Maybe it did. “My family...it’s not like yours. We don’t watch football together or break the wishbone or have anyone’s knitting decorating the house. We’re….” Trixie’s eyes are hard but her voice catches, and Katya grips her hand tighter. “....we’re a little more broken.”

They have to take two planes - the second of which is so tiny there’s only one row on each side and Katya can barely stand up in it - a train, then a bus, and finally a one mile walk to get to Trixie’s childhood home. It looks like a bunch of logs haphazardly piled on top of one another, and Katya thinks about making a comment about it being a proper ‘cabin in the woods’ but she can see that Trixie isn’t in the mood. She’s barely loosened her grip on Katya’s hand since they started their journey however many hours ago.

It’s a tiny place that somehow even tinier inside, and as Trixie sticks her head in, Katya thinks that she sounds small.

“Hi, Mom,” she calls quietly into the house. Katya’s always thought that Trixie knows how to enter a room, that she effortlessly takes up a space with all her light. Katya’s never seen her like this, and it kind of tilts her world on its axis.

When Katya meets Pam, her first impression is that she can’t find a single connection between the woman and Trixie. Pam is heavyset and looks like she’s made of something hard, like stone, while everything about Trixie is pink and soft.

The family resemblance is a bit more apparent in Trixie’s sister, but appearance-wise only. Bella is tall and curvy and has Trixie’s golden hair and blue eyes, but her nose is sharper and her jaw is harder, and she looks at Katya like there’s a skunk stuck under her nose.

When Johnny joins them, Katya gets the impression that he’s at least a little bit high, and from what Trixie’s told her, she wouldn’t be the least bit surprised if he was.

No one yells or screams at each other, but Katya almost wishes they would. Every interaction between every member of the Mattel family is strained and awkward with heavy silences in between. Katya simultaneously feels like she’s imposing and like she’s invisible to these people. She tries her best to compliment Pam’s cooking or to ask Bella about her boyfriend, to start a conversation with Johnny about how the job hunt is going. She’s met with short, impersonal responses when she’s met with them at all.

Meanwhile, Bella talks to Trixie like she’s dirt on her shoe, and Johnny treats Trixie like barely exists. Katya’s heart aches for her woman, who’s smaller and quieter than Katya’s ever seen her. 

Thanksgiving dinner is as heavy and strained and uncomfortable as the rest of the stay has been. She knows that not every family can be as open with communication as hers - they had weekly meetings in the living room and family dinners on Sundays up until everyone left for college - but this feels like a whole other level of bottled up.

When Trixie and Katya go to sleep that night, Trixie immediately burrows her head into Katya’s chest. They’re facing each other in bed, and Katya’s got her arms tightly wrapped around her.

At first it’s enough just to be there with each other, to lie in silence and feel one another. And then Trixie speaks into Katya’s chest, and Katya feels it go straight to her heart.

“I wish I could have grown up with you.” It’s quiet, and Katya cards her fingers through Trixie’s hair, doing her best to give whatever comfort she can. “I don’t want you to feel bad for me, because these people aren’t who I am. But I wish I could have had you with me in this damn house.”

“Baby,” Katya says into Trixie’s hair. “You are so much better than this. You’re bigger and your brighter. I wish I could tell you how bright you are.” Trixie is quiet, but Katya feels her take a big breath. Their legs are tangled beneath the covers.

Pam and Trixie will reconnect years later, when Trixie’s graduated college and Pam’s stopped bringing home shitty boyfriends. It fills Katya’s heart to see Trixie talk with her mother so openly, to receive affection from the woman who kept herself closed off from Trixie for so many years.

It’s during those years of reconnection that Katya learns when Pam knew she and Trixie would stay together.

“I’d be lying if I said it was that damn first Thanksgiving in Wisconsin,” Pam tells Katya. “You were about as scared as a little bird, and I don’t blame you one bit. No, I knew you were the one for my Trixie when you came back the next year. And the one after that.” Pam’s eyes soften the longer they linger on Katya. “Usually that scene would’ve been enough to scare someone away from our little shed just outside Milwaukee forever. Maybe it wouldn’t’ve been enough to scare them away from Trixie, but it would have scared them away from us, and anyone who knows Trixie like we do knows she’s a family gal through thick and thin. Even after the shit we put her through.”

It warms Katya’s heart to know that Pam trusts her with Trixie. And so no one is surprised when Trixie and Katya announce that they’re getting married.

Present Day 

Jinkx and Dela had been together for ages, almost as long as Katya and Trixie. Everyone was convinced they’d never tie the knot, whether it be for financial reasons or out of some desire to stick it to the patriarchal institution of marriage. But then it was happening and it was happening soon, by the end of the month because they just didn’t want to wait.

The Center is filled with a bit of brightness that day, as everyone processes and takes in the news. Katya had been confronted with a beaming Jinkx the moment she walked in the door, and then had immediately been shown the gigantic ruby ring on her left hand. 

Katya goes throughout her work day in a bit of a haze, trying her best to be supportive and happy for Jinkx while trying to gear everyone back into work-mode.

Around lunch time she’s hiding out in her office, reading something from Reader’s Digest and scarfing down her salad when she sees a familiar, long face pop its head through the door.

“Peek-a-boo, Zamo,” the voice drawls, and Katya sits up her chair.

“Alaska,” Katya says, pushing her magazine to the side. “What’s up?”

“I should ask _you_ the same question,” Alaska says. She’s pushing her way into the room and plopping down in the chair across from Katya’s desk. “You don’t exactly seem over the moon about this whole engagement thing.”

Katya opens her mouth and closes it, feeling a bit like a fish.

“I’m - I don’t - what? It’s great news, it’s just - I gotta keep everyone on track today, people are celebrating so much no one’s paying attention to work-”

“And _who_ gives a rat’s ass. Our members our just about as ecstatic as Jinkx, they’re not exactly filing complaints about people being Happy on the Job.” Katya’s opening and closing her mouth again, feeling spectacularly at a loss for words, when Alaska cuts her off again. “Look. I know it’s probably none of my business, but it is. I feel like this has something to do with Trixie.” She hesitates, like she’s waiting for Katya to protest. She doesn’t. So Alaska continues. “Alright. I’m no fucking psychic and I don’t have a PhD, but something tells me you miss being in Jinkx’s position. I think we all remember when it was you running in here and Trixie with the gigantic ring on her finger.”  
Katya relents.

“Yeah. Yeah, I remember that, too.” 

“Okay, well. Like I said, I’m no licensed therapist, but I know you and Tracy well enough to say some shit. I know things aren’t perfect. I know you wish you could sit down and talk about your wedding night or your first date or whatever bullshit you old married cunts like to bring up. But that’s still Trixie, and you are good at loving Trixie. So stop crying over another couple getting a good thing thrown at them and go make some more good things with your own woman.”

Katya sighs, wants to argue, but doesn’t know how. 

“Yeah, okay. Easier said than done, but….I’ll try.” _We’re both trying,_ she thinks. “Now get the hell out of here so I can finish my salad.”

Alaska smirks before bouncing out of her seat, and then Katya’s alone.

She muses over Alaska’s words, considers the fact that she has a woman at home that she loves. It occurs to her that she’s being a bit unfair.

Everyone’s been so concentrated on getting Trixie’s memory back, or bringing her back to her 29-year-old self that Katya hasn’t considered just….starting over. Trixie’s fallen in love with her once, and she can do it again. Katya knows she can.

Katya finishes her lunch and when she stands up, she has a bounce in her step. Something new yet familiar is alight inside of her. 

She is going to romance the shit out of her wife.

***

Trixie thinks that Katya looks especially bouncy that night, as she cheerily reminds Trixie who Jinkx and Dela are, explains that they’ve planned the wedding to take place by the end of the month. 

“That’s so soon,” Trixie says.

“I _know!_ ” Katya agrees. They’re eating at the kitchen table rather than on the couch, at Katya’s suggestion. _I just don’t wanna be distracted by the TV, I guess,_ she had said. She’s smiling a bunch and Trixie thinks that she’s emanating warmth. Katya’s a compelling enough person as it is - this version of Katya has Trixie feeling weak in the knees. “We took about six months to plan ours, and it was just in a fucking cottage.” 

Trixie still hasn’t asked about their wedding, and she can’t tell if it’s because she’s saving it, knowing it’ll be special, or if she’s scared to see the look on Katya’s face as she remembers a version of Trixie that she herself doesn’t remember.

“Anyways,” Katya says quickly. Trixie wonders if Katya’s caught her looking a bit uncomfortable. “Are you free tomorrow night? I have an idea.” 

Trixie thinks it’s particularly sweet that Katya always makes a point to ask if she’s free, like Trixie’s off living her life rather than spending most of her day within the confines of their apartment.

“I’ll ask my assistant to double check, but I think we can work something out for tomorrow.” Katya laughs, and then quickly covers her mouth, apparently forgetting she’s chewing. It’s incredibly endearing.

“Well, missy, tell you and your assistant to work something out for 7:30pm, and pick out something extra pretty.” Katya gives a dramatic wink and Trixie giggles. The mood slightly shifts when Katya places a hand over Trixie’s own on the table. “I wanna take you on a date. A real date. With a fancy restaurant and pretty dresses and done-up hair and built-up stress over who’s gonna take the check.” Trixie laughs, but she’s blushing furiously. Katya’s holding her gaze tightly, and Trixie finds that she’s short of breath. Katya’s eyes are so fucking gorgeous - gray and knowing but with a little twinkle. They look at Trixie like she’s the only person in the world.

“I’d like that a lot,” Trixie says. She finds voice to be incredibly quiet. She feels embarrassed, and then feels embarrassed that she’s embarrassed. _This is your wife, Trixie,_ she tells herself. It’s still a lot to handle - Katya’s a lot to handle - but in the best way possible.

***

Trixie spends the majority of the next morning in bed slack-jawed, staring at her phone as she reads her notifications over and over.

_Congratulations, Ms. Mattel, you have been accepted…_

_After reviewing your application, we would be pleased to…_

She’s been accepted to every community college program she’s applied to, and she has three job interviews next week.

Trixie keeps looking at the phone again and again, thinking she’s read something wrong or that there’s been a mistake, that some younger, yet somehow more qualified person must have been the intended recipients of these emails. But no matter how many times she looks, she finds they’re still addressed to her, that the interviews are still on for next week.

She goes through her day in a daze, deciding to grab a book and spend her afternoon at a nearby coffee shop. It feels strange to not have applications to send off, resumes to refine. She goes to the coffee shop Katya took her to that morning they went to the farmer’s market, the one with the pink and green walls. She tries not to think about all the dates she and Katya might have gone on here that she can’t remember, and instead tries to think about all the dates they have the opportunity to go on now.

She thinks about the date Katya’s taking her on tonight.

Her heart gets little lighter when she thinks about it - the way Katya had taken her hand and looked at her with such open eyes when she told Trixie about their plans for tonight. Trixie is properly smitten with her wife, and she loves the feeling, wants to hug it tight to her chest.

Trixie gets home just in time to start getting ready for dinner, and is surprised to find the apartment empty. Katya is usually home from work by this hour.

Just as she’s considering sending off a text, her phone buzzes with a message from Katya herself.

_**Katya:** I’ll pick you up in about an hour! Can’t wait <3 _

_Pick you up?_ Trixie thinks. She furrows her brow in confusion, but decides not to question it, decides Katya will explain in soon.

Trixie takes time to brush out her hair, straightening it then adding in soft curls. She lets the sound of Dolly play softly on her phone’s speaker as she blends soft pink eye shadow onto her lids, adds a pop of even softer pink to her lips.

She picks out a sleeveless pink dress with a high neckline and a thin pink coat to go over it. Katya hasn’t told her where they’re going, but she said something about picking out her prettiest dress, so Trixie thinks she should be good.

She takes a second to admire herself in the mirror, run her hands over her curves. It had taken her awhile to adjust to the new body she’s living it, which is that of a grown woman, and a curvy one, at that. She’s growing fond of her heavy breasts, her soft hips, the little pocket of fat on her tummy. In this dress, with her face and hair dolled up, she feels good - the most beautiful she’s felt in a long time.

Trixie’s in the middle of tugging on her shoes when she hears the doorbell ring. She furrows her brow and wonders who the hell is paying them a visit at this time of the evening. With a quick glance at her watch, she sees that it’s exactly 7:30.

Trixie just shakes her head, quickly smooths her hands over her dress in the mirror, runs her fingers through her curls one more time, and opens the door.

Standing before her is Katya, clad in a long, flowy dress and with about a dozen daisies in her arms.

“Oh,” Trixie gasps out, softly covering her mouth with her hand. Daisies are her favorite.

“Trixie Mattel?” Katya says. She’s barely containing the smile big enough to crack her face. “I’m here to pick you up for your date, ma’am.”

“ _Katya,_ ” Trixie says. She’s smiling too, and gently taking the flowers from Katya’s hands. “We’ll have to put these in a vase - they’re so pretty, Kat.”

The nickname slips out before she knows she’s done it, and she finds herself having to pause. She’s never called Katya that before, and she isn’t exactly sure where it came from.

She thinks that Katya’s noticed it too, because she’s looking at her funny. But Trixie shakes it off, taking the bouquet of flowers from Katya and waving her inside.

After they’ve put the flowers in a vase, they’re out the door, and Trixie’s following Katya with a huge smile on her face. 

They take an uber to a restaurant with a fancy Italian name that Trixie can’t pronounce, and then they’re being led to a table upstairs by a man named Gianluca.

They’re tucked away in a corner, right next to a window that gives them a perfect view of the New York skyline. 

“Wow,” Trixie breathes out, taking in the lights. Katya’s just watching her from across the table with soft eyes, and Trixie thinks that it would be overwhelming if it weren’t so endearing.

“You look beautiful tonight,” Katya says. Trixie blushes, pulling down the hem of her dress so that she has something to do with her hands.

Trixie thinks that Katya looks so delightfully out of place, in her Bohemian dress that’s basically an extended peasant shirt. It’s such a beautiful contrast to the expensive-looking white table cloth that drapes over their table, to the abundance of sequin gowns and tailored suits around them.

“Thank you,” Trixie says, feeling a smile take over her face. “You do too. Your dress is like a big middle finger to this place.”

Katya laughs at that, bending over in a cute little wheeze. A few people around them glance over their shoulders in Katya’s direction, and Trixie finds that she’s delighted. She wants them to stare - this is her woman.

“Yeah baby, stick it to the industrial machine with a good ole problem pattern, right?”

“More like with something stolen from Stevie Nicks’ grave,” Trixie counters back so quickly she’s almost surprised at herself. But once again it has Katya doubled over. Trixie can’t tell if she’s more delighted by the annoyed looks on the faces of the other guests or by the little crinkle in Katya’s brow when she laughs so hard she loses her breath.

“Good one, Dolly,” Katya says. Trixie keens at the nickname, adjusts herself in her chair and smiles into her lap. “So. Trixie.” Katya plops her elbows on the table, folds her hands and then rests her chin on top. “Tell me about yourself. Where are you from? What’s your family like? What’re your hopes and dreams?”

Trixie furrows her brow, thinks that this is a woman who probably knows the answers to those questions better than she does herself.

“Katya you...don’t have to do this,” she says, and watches Katya’s gaze grow serious. 

“No, I don’t have to. I want to.” Katya reaches across the table and places her hand on Trixie’s. It’s the smallest bit of contact, but Trixie feels her pulse soar, regardless. “Trixie, look. I think I’ve been pretty unfair to you since you’ve come back.”

“No!” Trixie is quit to cut her off. “You’ve been wonderful to me, Katya.” _You’ve been so good and so sweet,_ she wants to say, but can’t find the voice.

“No, honey, let me finish.” Katya squeezes her hand and keeps her gaze firm. “I’ve been so focused on _telling_ you things about yourself, I haven’t even thought to listen to you.” Trixie feels her pulse speed up, and finds she has to keep the heat in her eyes at bay. 

It’s exactly what she wanted to hear, exactly what she’s wanted to communicate to Katya in the first place, but just didn’t know how. Now she doesn’t have to figure it out.

“So, Trixie Mattel.” Katya removes her hand from Trixie’s and sits up straighter. “Tell me about yourself.”

Dinner that night feels like the easiest thing in the world.

Trixie thinks that she can understand why she married Katya.

Once they talk and laugh off the nervous energy, conversation flows easily, and they have senses of humor that almost perfectly compliment each other. They love Kill Bill but hate Quentin Tarantino, love Dolly but wouldn’t care to see her live, love the idea of Los Angeles but can’t stand the thought of living there.

Trixie’s pretty sure their waiter hates them. Every time he’s come to check on them, they’ve either got mouths full of food and fully talk to him anyway, or are in the middle of a laugh that’s the equivalent of a 90-year-old’s wheeze or a banshee’s scream. And if the waiter isn’t fond of them, the other guests around them are even worse. Trixie’s living for the nasty looks they’re getting from these too-good-to-shit city folk whose coats look like they cost more than Trixie and Katya’s apartment.

They’re finishing up their meals, pushing around their pasta and making up stories about the couple with the fur coats, when Katya lowers her voice and conspiratorily leans forward.

“What the hell are we doing here?”

Trixie barks out a laugh and almost chokes on her bread.

“Girl, _you’re_ the one who took us here!” 

“Ugh,” Katya groans, deflating. “I guess every woman has her flaws, huh? Hey, how about this - I have enough cash on me to pay now, and we can skip out of here before dessert. Whaddaya say?”

Trixie smiles, leans forward and fake whispers at her wife.

“Let’s get the hell out of here.”

Katya plops down a bunch of twenties on the table, and then she’s grabbing Trixie’s hand and they’re giggling out of the restaurant like a couple of teenagers. Once they’re out on the street, they laugh together so hard they have a hard time standing up, and Trixie Realizes she’s still holding Katya’s hand.

It feels nice. It feels really nice.

“Where to now?” Trixie says, hoping Katya will read the color in her cheeks as an effect of laughing, and not from the way her heart has accelerated to the max since Katya took her hand.

“Wherever you want, girlie,” Katya says. “We can go _anywhere_.” Katya gets really close to Trixie’s face, then pronounces the last word with gusto, before pulling back to wheeze at a laugh. Trixie’s so enamored she feels like her heart could burst.

“There!” Trixie finds herself saying. She points across the street at a familiar neon sign. 

“You wanna go to 7/11, mama?” Katya frowns at her, but her eyes are sparkling.

“Yes. You said we could go anywhere. I want to go across the street and get a slushy.”

“That,” Katya pokes Trixie’s shoulder with her finger to emphasize the word, “sounds like a _marvelous_ idea, Ms. Mattel.”

Moments later they’re across the street, pouring themselves slushies in their fancy dresses. They only drop hands when they absolutely need to.

They drink their slushies outside on the curb, still laughing about some of the especially rich-looking customers in that Italian restaurant. Trixie happily sips on her drink, but finds herself shivering as the icy slush makes its way into her body.

“Here, girlie, you look cold,” Katya mumbles. Moments later Katya’s wrapping an arm around Trixie’s shoulder, holding her close. Trixie feels her whole body flush, thinks that she wants Katya to keep holding her like that long after the slushies are gone.

They sit in comfortable silence for awhile, until it occurs to Trixie that she has news for Katya.

“So I’ve been sending out a bunch of applications. Like for jobs and schools and stuff,” she begins. This piques Katya’s interest - she frowns at Trixie and then immediately hums.

“Should have figured,” Katya said. “A woman like you can’t really sit at home reading and watching TV for hours on end without going crazy.” Trixie smiles, decides that does sound like her. “But uh….Trix. I gotta warn ya, we don’t exactly have the money to be sending anyone off to college right now.”

“No - I know, I figured. They’re all for community colleges, and they’re relatively cheap. Plus, I’d be working.”

“Mm. Atta girl,” Katya smiles. Trixie feels it in her chest. “So uh, any word back? Any boss would be crazy not to hire ya, but capitalists _are_ fuckin crazy, so who knows.”

“I got a lot back today, actually. I got accepted into all the schools and I’ve got three interviews next week.”

“Oh!” Katya gives Trixie’s shoulders a squeeze and her eyes light up. “That’s so great - oh my gosh, I’m so proud of you!”

Trixie smiles, thinks that Katya sounds sincere. They spend the rest of the night talking about the various jobs and schools, weighing which ones would be best for Trixie. Katya seems so invested in her education, her interests, her happiness. Trixie thinks that Katya has to be one of the most selfless people she’s ever known.

At the end of the night, they take a cab back to their apartment, and Katya keeps her fingers interlocked with Trixie’s the whole way.

When they get home, Katya walks Trixie up to the door of their bedroom. 

“Well, this is where I leave you, m’lady,” Katya says.

Trixie rolls her eyes.

“Katya,” she says. “You’re so ridiculous.”

“Just trying to be a gentlewoman for the gorgeous lady I had the pleasuring of dining out with.” Trixie blushes and looks down at her shoes. “Any way you’d take a chance on this old witch again and risk another date?”

Trixie smiles, thinks she’d let Katya take her as many dates as she likes.

“I’ll have to check with my assistant again about the scheduling but...yes. Absolutely, yes.”

Katya smiles, leans in to give Trixie a quick kiss on the cheek, and then steps away.

“Good night, dolly.”

***

Trixie has a hard time falling asleep that night.

Her chest is so light, she gets lost in gliding around the room in her pink dress and coat, twirling strands of her curled hair around her fingers. 

When she lies in bed that night, she keeps thinking about Katya, and her high cheekbones that Trixie wants to kiss, her strong arms that Trixie wants wrapped around her. She can hear Katya’s laugh still ringing in her ears, and she wants to hold it close to her. She thinks about Katya’s eyes, how they’re so grey and beautiful and how they look at Trixie like she’s the only person that matters.  
Trixie wraps the sheets tighter around her, tries to imagine that Katya’s there beside her, arms around her waist and face nestled into Trixie’s neck. She imagines that their breathing would sync up and Trixie would run her hands over the muscles in Katya’s arms.

It’s occurred to her before that she and Katya must have had sex. They’d been married for two years and together for about ten, they must have had _lots_ of sex, and kisses and cuddles and dates like the ones they’d gone on tonight. 

Trixie’s been kissed before. There was Marty from the football team who sloppily kissed her at the homecoming game party, Jacob From History who gave her a pathetic peck after an awkward movie date - Sandy Sanchez, on the senior volleyball player who used to kiss Trixie in the back room of parties, and then pretended she didn’t know her.

But Trixie’s never been _touched_ before, has never trusted anyone enough to let them, has never liked anyone enough to want them to. But the more she thinks about Katya, the more something buried deep inside her begins to stir, and she thinks that if she doesn’t kiss the woman soon, she’ll go crazy.

She closes her eyes and focuses as hard as she can, taking herself back to that day she woke up in the hospital.

Trixie does this sometimes, only when it’s late at night and she’s having a hard time falling asleep. She thinks that if she tries hard enough, or focuses on the right thing, she can conjure up the memories that she’d lost in the accident - like she just has to strain her mind for an extended period of time, or see or hear something that will trigger them to reemerge.

She’s never successful, and she’s never _wanted_ to be successful as much as she does tonight. She thinks that if she can just remember the feeling of Katya’s arms around her, of her plush lips, it would ease this ache that’s growing in her stomach.

Eventually she gives up, and all she has to go on is the memory of Katya’s arm around her that night, as they sat shivering outside the 7/11 with their slushies. Trixie hopes it’s not their last date, and she hopes it’s not the last time Katya holds her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've wanted to write from Trixie's perspective for SO long and it was challenging but I'm really pleased with how it turned out! From now on it's gonna go back and forth between Trixie and Katya's POVs pretty regularly :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You look so beautiful, Trix,” Katya tells her. “I’m so glad you bullied me into going vintage shopping with you.”
> 
> Trixie smiles, moves to place her head on Katya’s chest.
> 
> “ _You_ look beautiful, Katya. Real milfy and everything.”
> 
> Katya shakes with laughter and Trixie’s shaken by it, too. Katya just holds her tighter, lets Trixie more thoroughly nestle into her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ: so, this is the last chapter I've pre-written. I'm back at school now and I haven't had the time to write since I came back. so far I've been able to update this story each week, but from here on out it's basically gonna be updated whenever I finish a chapter and I can't exactly make any promises as to how often that'll be. but if you want to talk to me you can always message me on tumblr @katyasghoulfriend where I'll probably be posting about any updates writing-wise. 
> 
> anyways I wanted to write this chapter for a long time and it's my first time writing smut, so I hope it turned out okay! also, hopefully the second part of this chapter is a respite from all the heaviness and angst that's been going on for so long. there's drama and then there's feelings and then there's sex what more could u ask for (notice: I moved the rating up to explicit)
> 
> oof that was a lot - anyways, enjoy, and please let me know what you think!

The next few weeks are some of the busiest and best of Trixie’s life. 

She isn’t sure what’s taken a hold of Katya, but she seems determined to romance Trixie’s pants off (unfortunately, just figuratively). She’s been preparing breakfast for Trixie in the morning, making an effort take her out on the weekends, bringing home little trinkets she finds on her walks home from work, randomly surprising Trixie with flowers.

The best part of it all is that Katya’s wooing her like they really do have a new, budding relationship, like they were strangers on that first date.

Trixie used to be so scared that the more Katya got to know her, the more she’d start to realize that Trixie wasn’t the person she married, that she was too different, that she was someone Katya couldn’t love. But the love is still pouring off of her, and it’s new and exciting and fun. Trixie is so happy, she thinks that she can feel the affection Katya has for her pouring out of her, wishes it could wrap her in its arms.

Meanwhile, Trixie starts working at a makeup counter at a nearby shopping center during the day and taking classes on music theory and communications at a community college across down at night. She figures she might as well get closer to learning about the things she has degrees in. 

It feels so fucking good to be busy again, to be _stressed_ again, to come home tired from a long day. She’s started putting her feet in Katya’s lap when they sit in front of the TV, and keens at the way Katya rubs her ankles. There’s something special about being able to bask in a mutual sense of fulfillment, of tiredness.

Trixie’s finally made it down to the center, and she’s greeted by everyone there like family. It feels strange, and she doesn’t think she’ll ever get over the sensation of strangers looking at her like they know her well.

She especially gets along with Jinkx, who’s weird in funny in an offbeat way. Trixie delights in listening to her talk about the wedding, promises that she’ll get lunch with Dela soon, who apparently misses her. 

A lot of it is still scary and strange, and nothing is perfect. But Trixie’s happy to be working and excited to be learning, and the people in her life are good, and apparently love her very much. And she has Katya - Katya to come home to and to go out with on the weekends, who delights in making her breakfast in the morning and giving her a kiss on the cheek at night. 

Trixie thinks it’s pretty obvious that Katya’s been making an effort to woo her, and if she’s honest, it’s working.

It’s been just over a month since Trixie woke up in the hospital, and in that span of time, Jinkx and Dela have managed to not only get engaged, but plan their wedding, and now it’s coming up on the weekend. 

Trixie’s excited, and she even drags Katya out to go dress shopping so they have something new and pretty to wear.

“It probably won’t be that formal at all,” Katya tells her. “It’s Dela and Jinkx, after all.” But Katya relents, and then they’re coming home with a vintage white beaded gown for trixie and a flowy maroon dress for katya.

Katya’s had nervous energy around when whenever Trixie brings up the wedding, and it’s confusing to Trixie. She thinks Katya should be excited that their friends are getting married, but whenever Trixie brings up to event, Katya tends to want to change the subject. But Trixie doesn’t press her on it, and then they’re showing up to the wedding venue decked out in their gowns, linked arm-in-arm.

Despite the wedding being so last minute, Jinkx and Dela apparently have connections with every lesbian in town, and apparently lesbians seem to be in charge of...quite a lot. They end up at some fancy terrace that’s been decked out in kooky, antique decor that screams Jinkx and Dela. Everyone’s mingling for a bit before the ceremony starts, and Trixie feels relieved to spot Kim and Bob nearby.

“Come on vintage,” Kim says when she spots Trixie and Katya. 

Trixie laughs and compliments Kim on the soft purple dress she’s decided to sport. Bob is in a maroon suit with a black shirt and looks absolutely perfect.

The four of them talk and laugh for a bit, and Trixie thinks that she can feel whatever tension is living in Katya’s shoulders slip off of her. Trixie thinks that she enjoys the warmth of having her arm in Katya’s, likes the solid being Katya represents beside her.

“I’m gonna head to the ladies room real quick before the ceremony starts,” Katya says, giving Trixie’s arm a little squeeze. “I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

Trixie’s left along with Bob and Kim, who raise their eyebrows at her.

“You two seem to be getting along swimmingly,” Bob says.

“I mean, hey, we _are_ married.” Bob and Kim laugh, and Trixie can see something soft in their eyes. These people really care about her. 

“Oh fuck, there’s Betty,” Bob says. His gaze is somewhere over Trixie’s shoulder.

“Who?” Trixie says, and then immediately feels embarrassed. Betty is probably someone she should know.

“Trix, trust me, you’re lucky you forgot her,” Kim says. It’s obviously meant to cheer her up, but Trixie just feels a little uncomfortable, shifting her weight from one foot to another. “Oh shit, she - we better go save Naomi from her,” Kim says, also looking somewhere over Trixie’s shoulder. “Do you mind saving our seats, Trix? This’ll only take a few minutes.”

Trixie nods, and then Bob and Kim are squeezing past her, leaving her lingering by an aisle of chairs alone.

Trixie suddenly wishes she had something to drink, aching for something to do with her hands. She starts to take out her phone - she sees a lot of people standing alone doing who-knows-what on their devices - when an unfamiliar figure starts to approach her.

“ _Trixie!_ ” she says, and Trixie feels her heart drop. The woman is tall and all skin and bones, with hair that looks like it’s been deliberately dyed gray, and old timey jewelry hanging about her neck and wrists. She’s approaching Trixie with outstretched arms, and she’s got a shocked smile on her face, like she’s glad to see Trixie, like she hasn’t in a long while.

Trixie has no idea who she is.

She panics, realizes this is someone she should know, someone it would apparently be rude not to know. So she reaches her arms out and plays along.

“Hey….girl,” Trixie says, accepting the woman’s bone-crushing hug. 

“Oh my god, I’m so happy to see you - of course, I should have figured you’d be here, it’s Dela and Jinkx after all, but still, it has been _so_ long - how are you, how’s the music, how’s everything?”

She talks so quickly Trixie can barely keep up, and it takes her a moment to register that she’s been asked a question.

“Oh, it’s - I’m - good. The music is good. Everything’s great. How are….things with you?”

The woman in front of her goes off on a tangent about what sounds like every single aspect of her life. Trixie struggles to keep up, tries to gather bits and pieces - eventually gets that she owns a vintage shop, obviously doesn’t live in New York - _where the fuck does she live, then?_ \- but can’t pick up much else. She begins to feel relieved, thinking she may not even have to say much here, she can just let the woman ramble on and on.

But then she’s done with whatever story she’s on, and her words make Trixie’s heart drop into her throat.

“But what about you! I wanna hear everything - how’s Katya?”

“Oh,” Trixie says. _More like_ where _is Katya._ “She’s great, you know, things are going great at the center, everyone was really excited about Jinkx and Dela. Uh...how’s...yours?” she tries. She can’t tell if this woman is gay, bi, straight, somewhere in between - but figures asking vaguely about some romantic partner should be safe.

“Oh, Trixie, you know I’ve never been able to hold down a man!” _Of course I do,_ Trixie thinks, feels some of the blood leave her face. “But like I said, enough about me - how’s the recording going? Last time I heard you were working with a girl named Melissa, how’s that going? Any update on the mom?”

“Melissa - yeah, of course. She’s great. Her mom, too, delights like always.” It’s a complete shock in the dark, and apparently it’s the wrong one, because the woman in front of her is furrowing her brow.

“Really? I thought you said the mother is an absolute nightmare?”

_Fuck._

“Trixie….is everything alright? You seem diff-”

“Max! Hello!”

Trixie thinks she could kiss Katya’s feet. All of the sudden her wife is coming up to her, looping her arm through Trixie and giving this woman - _Max_ \- what’s obviously a forced smile.

“Oh Katya, we were just talking about you! How are you, dear?” Any sort of suspicion Max had a moment ago has dissolved as she chats with Katya. Trixie finds herself tuning out, more focused on the blood pulsing in her ears, the hot water pooling in her eyes.

Eventually, Max and Katya exchange final pleasantries, and the little gray woman is on her way. Then Trixie is alone with Katya, who’s spewing out about a thousand apologies.

“Trix I’m so sorry I - the line to the bathroom was so long and I was thinking about texting you but I-”

“It’s fine,” Trixie says. She knows it’s not fine and she knows that saying it is is probably the least healthy way to deal with it. But she doesn’t have the energy to work through this right now. She feels like she’s been punched in the gut. “Can we just go sit down please.”

Bob and Kim come join them a bit later, and Trixie’s grateful to be sitting on the end. The only person she has to talk to is Katya, who’s wrapped up in conversation with Kim and Bob. If she keeps throwing nervous glances at Trixie, Trixie stares into her lap, pretends not to notice.

The ceremony is beautiful and Jinkx and Dela both cry, before smacking each other with an inappropriately long kiss that gets a number of cat calls from the crowd.

Trixie goes through most of the wedding in a daze. She follows Katya, exchanges pleasantries with people when needed, loosely holds on to Katya’s arm and ignored the concerned looks the woman is throwing her way. They briefly get to talk to Jinkx and Dela, who give them tight hugs and are so obviously wrapped up in their own happiness that they don’t notice anything off about Trixie’s energy. 

When they finally get to the reception, Trixie mumbles something to Katya about needing to pee, and then she’s racing off to the restroom so she can be on her own.

Thankfully, Trixie’s the first person there, so she takes a moment to grasp a sink on each side with her hands, hunching over as she takes a breath. She wants so desperately to splash cold water over her face, to let the tears that have been resting in her eyes pour down her cheeks. She wants to go home - not to the apartment she shares with Katya, the apartment that she knows Katya is paying full rent for - but to the little house she lives in with her mother in Wisconsin. 

She wants to start over, to reset time, to either be 18 again or be a 29-year-old woman who actually remembers the last eleven years of her life. She thinks that she can’t go out there again, to the people who share memories with her and about her that Trixie may never be able to get back. She doesn’t know what she’d been thinking, getting a job and going to classes like everything was normal, like any of this was normal. She feels helpless.

She’s considering finding a way to sneak out of the reception altogether, to go back to the apartment so she can get her bearings and figure out what the fuck she’s going to do from here on out. And then she hears the door open.

“Shit,” she mutters, beginning to straighten herself up, pretending like she hadn’t just been going through a full on existential crisis in this public bathroom - and then she feels a delicate hand on her shoulder. 

“Trixie.” Katya’s voice is soft. Trixie meets her eyes in the mirror, sees that hers are red with tears, too. “Baby,” she says softly.

“This is why you were so nervous about coming here, wasn’t it?” Trixie says quiet. She watches as Katya’s muscles freeze, and she knows she’s right. “You were scared of running into people like Max, who didn’t know about the accident.”

Katya hesitates, then lets out a small breath.

“I thought it would be a bit overwhelming,” Katya says softly. Trixie hears the way she softly and carefully chooses her words, and it makes something in her chest hurt. 

“Of course it would be,” Trixie says. She chokes a little bit and thinks that she can hear the tears in her voice. Her chest hurts and each word feels like it’s being choked out, like it’s painful to speak around the weight inside her. “Of course, because I’m not the Trixie these people know, or think they know, or think they like. I’m not the Trixie _you_ think I am.” Trixie turns away from the mirror and faces Katya, only to find that she can’t read her expression. “I’m not the woman these people love and I’m not the woman you fell in love with. We’re just….we’re standing here pretending, and it doesn’t make any _fucking_ sense.”

Trixie stops, and Katya’s looking at her with eyes she can’t read. It’s an intense expression, and it’s mixed with something that could be anger, but could also be defeat, but could also just be the eyes of a woman whose tired. 

Trixie blinks and then Katya’s marching away from her across the room. Trixie thinks she’s going to go storming out of the bathroom, but instead she’s locking the door, then walking right back up to Trixie, with a stern face and crossed arms.

“Trixie Mattel. I need you to listen to me very clearly.

“You’re right, there are people out there who know and love a Trixie Mattel who is 29 years old, graduated with degrees in music theory and communications, and works as a music producer. But guess what? They don’t love her because of where she went to school or where she works or how old she is. They love her because she’s sweet and kind, because she cares about the people in her life and puts them before herself. They love her because she’s talented and passionate and hard-working, because she’s funny and smart and quick-witted and fun to be around.

“That’s the Trixie that they love, and that’s the Trixie I fell in love with. And guess what, Linda? That’s the Trixie that’s standing in front of me right now.

“So you don’t have all the memories that they do. We’ll make new ones. For every embarrassing and happy and funny moment that you lost in the accident, you’ll make two more, three more - more than you can count. I believe that. Everyone who knows you believes that. But I need you to believe it, too.”

Trixie’s stunned. When Katya finishes, the tears that had been quietly resting in Trixie’s eyes are come pouring down her cheeks with a single blink. She doesn’t know what she’d been expecting from Katya, but it definitely wasn’t that.

“Kat, I….” She takes a breath, quickly wipes her eye. “....I’m so sorry.”

Katya shakes her head, and then they’re reaching forward to hold each other, and Trixie’s sniffling into Katya’s shoulder.

“Don’t be sorry, baby, you’re trying your best...you’re trying so hard, we all are,” Katya mumbles into Trixie, muttering other comforting words of endearment. Trixie thinks that Katya’s so warm, that cuddled into her chest is exactly where she wants to be.

“You’re so good to me, Kat,” Trixie says.

“Because I want to be, baby,” Katya tells her. “I need you to start being good to you, too.”

Trixie lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and she thinks that she’d be content to stay there in Katya’s arms for a long, long time. 

***

After they come out of the bathroom, Trixie finds that she’s finally able to take in how beautiful the reception actually is. Crying has made her feel cathartic, and she feels like she’s glowing as she watches Jinkx and Dela during their first dance. Dela is basically crying the whole time as Jinkx patiently wipes her tears, smiling at the woman in front of her like she could burst with all the love. Katya holds Trixie’s hand the whole time, swiping her thumb across her skin.

When Katya finally asks Trixie to dance, Trixie finds herself practically melting in the woman’s arms. Katya’s eyes are soft and she’s got a small smile plastered over her face.

“You look so beautiful, Trix,” Katya tells her. “I’m so glad you bullied me into going vintage shopping with you.”

Trixie smiles, moves to place her head on Katya’s chest.

“ _You_ look beautiful, Katya. Real milfy and everything.”

Katya shakes with laughter and Trixie’s shaken by it, too. Katya just holds her tighter, lets Trixie more thoroughly nestle into her.

Jinkx and Dela had managed to get a live band, and they’ve been switching off between playing old timey music and instrumental takes on modern songs all night. At one point they start playing a slowed-down version of what Trixie immediately recognizes as Waterloo, and Trixie gasps.

“Oh, I love this song,” she says.

Katya just holds her tighter.

“Yeah, baby. Me too.”

They get on with the sobby, drawn-out speeches about Jinkx and Dela, along with toasts to the brides’ health, and then dinner and cake and every other tradition that seems to come along with wedding receptions.

Near the end of the night, Dela decides to throw the bouquet into the crowd.

“All you single women out there, I want you on the floor immediately!” Dela screeches into the microphone. Trixie thinks that she’s more than a little tipsy, and decides that Katya’s laugh beside her only serves to confirm that.

“Come on, baby,” Katya nudges Trixie up. “Old married folk like us have got zero business hanging around these bachelorettes.” Trixie giggles and follows Katya, gladly tangling their fingers together.

Trixie follows Katya to the back of the reception hall, where they find a balcony that must serve as a smoker’s corner. It’s deserted, and when katya closes the door behind them, they’re alone.

“Oh my god,” Trixie says. She moves closer to the edge and places her hands on the railing, letting out a breath as she takes in the skyline spread out before her. “It’s so beautiful.”

“I passed this door on our way in and had a hunch it might be a balcony,” Katya says. “You know, I’ve lived in New York for about ten years and I think I can count on one hand the times I’ve seen the city so clearly like this.” Katya moves to stand beside Trixie, places a hand over hers. Trixie can feel her heartbeat speed up at the proximity and is reminded of just how alone she and Katya are.

Trixie turns to Katya and thinks that the moon is shining in a way that perfectly reflects off Katya’s cheekbones. It occurs to her that Katya’s had so many opportunities to make a move on her, through all their dinners out, their walks home, their little goodnights. She must be waiting for Trixie to do something. And Trixie thinks that she’s ready.

“I really meant what I said before,” Trixie says. Her voice is soft as she turns her body to face Katya’s. She feels Katya softly stroke her hand. “You’ve been so good to me these past few weeks. Not everyone could have done it, a lot of people would have given up.”

“Not everyone’s doing it for someone like you.” Trixie knows she’s not imagining it when she sees Katya’s eyes flicker down to her lips. “Did I already tell you you’re beautiful?”

“Yeah,” Trixie says. “You did.”

She feels like she’s being magnetically drawn closer to Katya until there’s no distance between them at all.

Katya’s lips meet hers softly at first, like she’s giving Trixie a chance to pull away. But then Trixie is sighing into the kiss, and it’s like a dam breaks in Katya. Katya deepens the kiss, placing her fingers on the back of Trixie’s neck while her thumbs delicately swipe over Trixie’s cheekbones. Trixie wraps her arms around Katya’s waist and tries her best to pull them impossibly closer.

Katya tilts her head to the side and Trixie feels the kiss deepen even further. She wants to melt into Katya, wants Katya to completely devour her. Trixie’s being kissed under the moonlight by the most beautiful woman she’s ever seen, and she thinks that in that moment, she’d give her whole self over to Katya, let her do whatever she pleased.

Katya finally breaks the kiss, and Trixie feels herself automatically chasing her lips. They’re both out of breath as Katya rests their foreheads together and lets out a nervous laugh.

“Been waiting to do that a long time, mama.” Trixie lets out a nervous laugh too and feels like tendrils of light are moving through her chest. 

She loses track of how long they stay like that, holding and being held.

***

The rest of the wedding passes in what Trixie can only describe as a blur of dizzy light and content. Katya holds her hand practically the entire time, delicately swiping her thumb over Trixie’s palm. It’s something she’s done before, but Trixie feels like it means more now, like they have a secret only they’re privy to, like the smallest of moments shared between them act as hints to grander gestures.

When they get home that night, Trixie decides to be bold and leans in for a kiss goodnight. It’s small and chaste might have been unfulfilling were it not for the look of gleeful surprise on Katya’s face after Trixie pulls away.

That night they whisper their goodnights in breathy voices, and when Trixie’s finally huddled under the covers of her bed, she feels warmth enveloping every inch of her. 

She wants Katya to kiss her like she had that night over and over again, until Trixie’s lips are numb, until she’s not sure where she ends and Katya begins. She falls asleep content with a growing vibration in the bottom of her stomach, and she thinks that Katya’s unlocked something deep inside her that won’t easily be put to rest.

***

After the wedding, Trixie is determined to work kisses into their day-to-day routines. 

She leans in for a peck before Katya leaves for work and makes sure to give her slow kisses goodnight. They give each other little kisses when they go out for dinner and when they get the chance to visit each other at work.

At first, that’s all it is. Small pecks or softer - albeit still chaste - exchanges scattered throughout the day. They haven’t had a kiss as slow or tender as they did at the wedding, and the more Trixie lingers on it, the more the itch inside her seems determined to grow.

One morning, Katya is about to leave for work when Trixie catches her right at the door and tugs her aside.

“ _Excuse_ me, aren’t you forgetting something?” Trixie says. She knows it’s cheeky and a little lame, but she doesn’t care.

Katya playfully rolls her eyes and then pulls Trixie in for a kiss.

Trixie can tell it’s just meant to be a quick, sweet exchange, just like the rest of their morning kisses. But then Katya’s teeth accidentally catch on her bottom lip, and Trixie feels her breath automatically hitch.

When Katya pulls away, her face is only inches from Trixie’s, and Trixie watches her face as Katya’s eyes flicker down to Trixie’s lips and she quickly makes a decision.

In moments, Katya’s hands are on Trixie’s shoulders and she’s being backed up against the wall. She barely has any time to react before Katya’s hands are tangled in her hair and she’s devouring Trixie’s lips. Trixie lets out the tiniest of gasps and Katya apparently takes it as an opportunity, running her tongue along the edge of Trixie’s lips and then tilting her head to the side to deepen the kiss.

Trixie dumbly realizes she doesn’t know what to do with her hands, so she wraps them around Katya, digging her fingernails into Katya’s shoulder blades. The movement only seems to encourage encourage Katya, who lets out an eager moan into Trixie’s mouth and moves to suck on her tongue.

As soon as the shock of the situation has time to pass over Trixie, she feels herself melting into the kiss, moaning into Katya’s mouth and tightening her arms around the strong, yet delicate woman. She thinks that Katya’s lips are so soft and feel so good against her own, revels in the fact that they’re so skilled and so eager to move against her own. 

Katya bites her bottom lip, and then Trixie’s letting out a high-pitched whine. The sound seems to make something snap in Katya, and then she’s removing her lips from Trixie’s and untangling her hands from Trixie’s hair to place them firmly on her shoulders. 

For a few moments she just rests their foreheads together and they breath heavily into each other’s mouths.

“I….sorry….I don’t know what got into me-”  
“Don’t apologize,” Trixie says quickly.

Katya pulls back just enough to look Trixie in the eye. She’s studying her face, and Trixie feels open and vulnerable. It makes her already pounding pulse strengthen, and she feels her blush darken under the scrutiny of Katya’s intensely gray eyes.

“I like kissing you,” Trixie says. Her voice comes out small and rough, and she feels her blush impossibly darken.

Katya’s gaze wanders to a strand of Trixie’s hair as she gently tucks it behind her ear.

“Yeah?” Katya says softly. It’s so small, but something about it sends heat rushing to the bottom of Trixie’s stomach.

Trixie can feel her heart pounding, and as much as she wants to melt back into Katya and let her have her way with her, Trixie’s poignantly aware that they both have work soon. If Trixie doesn’t hurry she’ll be late for her shift.

“Katya….I’m gonna be late.”

“Are you?” Katya’s still not looking her in the eye, instead choosing to idly twirl a strand of Trixie’s hair around her finger. Trixie can feel her breath on her lips.

“Kat…” It takes all the strength and willpower Trixie possesses to gently push Katya away by the shoulders. “Can we pick this up later tonight?”

Katya meets her gaze again and nods. 

“Yeah, baby, I’d like that.” Something about being called baby so softly and so close by this woman….Trixie can feel her knees going weak.

Katya gives her one last kiss, quickly tracing her tongue across Trixie’s lips - 

And then she’s pulling away, and Trixie feels herself chasing the woman’s lips. Katya takes a step back, and Trixie thinks she sees the slightest of smirks on her face. She realizes Katya’s probably got her exactly where she wants her, and the knowledge sends a sharp, hot feeling into her stomach, her breasts.

“See you tonight,” Katya says as she slips out the door, flushed and smiling.

As soon as she’s gone, Trixie finds herself sinking to the floor, finally letting her knees go weak. She cradles her head in her hands and tries to catch her breath. She’s smiling so big her cheeks hurt, and she hugs her arms to her chest, thinks maybe this will slow the beating of her heart.

Trixie spends the day in a happy daze. Her sales are exceptionally good, she’s just so bubbly and smitten that she’s moved to talk to everyone, tell everyone they’re gorgeous. Her success at work only adds to the high she’s floating on. As she’s leaving, one of her coworkers, Tatianna, smirks and comments that she ‘looks like she got lucky this morning.’ Trixie only blushes and looks down at her hands, which makes Tatianna cackle as she watches Trixie practically skip out the door.

She’s starting to wonder if she and Katya really are going to do…. _whatever_ tonight, or if they’ll end up putting it off. The more she thinks about it, the more she wonders what ‘whatever’ even means. A part of her doesn’t think she’s ready for sex and can barely wrap her head around what lesbians are exactly supposed to do in bed - she’s been meaning to mess around with google, but always ends up holding herself back - while another part of her wants to let Katya have her way with her however she pleases, holding her down to the mattress until Trixie’s gasping beneath her.

She doesn’t have class that night, so she does some homework at a little cafe until she starts to get hungry, and then she’s on her way home. 

When she opens the door, Katya’s messing around in the kitchen, and her face lights up when she spots Trixie.

“Hi, baby,” Katya says, pulling Trixie in for a chaste peck on the lips.

They talk about work and Trixie helps Katya out with dinner for a bit. It’s all fine and normal, but Trixie feels her heart starting to sink. She doesn’t know if she’d been expecting Katya to tackle her as soon as she stepped in the door, but nothing they’ve said to each other even hints at something going down between them that night.

Trixie’s padding off to change into pajamas and she’s feeling a little disappointed, when Katya calls after her.

“Hey Trix, I was thinking we could put on a movie tonight after dinner?” Trixie looks up at her and sees that Katya’s gaze is focused and intense.

 _This has to be it,_ she thinks. Her chest feels warm and she already feels like her legs are going weak again.

“Yeah, I’d really like that,” Trixie says.

Katya’s smiling.

“Good.”  
Dinner passes like it’s any other night, and then they’re putting on Moulin Rouge. 

Trixie’s sitting with her feet tucked underneath her and she’s only inches from Katya. She feels her whole body thrumming, like there’s some powerful electricity between them. They’re only a few minutes in when Katya starts to idly play with her hair, twirling a few of Trixie’s golden strands around her fingers.

Trixie’s trying her best to play it cool and be aloof as possible, focusing on the movie like nothing’s happening. But then she can’t resist looking in Katya’s direction, and the woman catches her gaze immediately.

“So pretty,” Katya says quietly. Trixie’s face flushes, and then Katya’s tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. Her hand lingers on Trixie’s neck, and Trixie feels like she’s going to explode when Katya’s pretty, slim fingers begin softly tickling the baby hairs at the back of her scalp. 

“Oh baby, you’re all flushed,” Katya coos. She presses the lightest of kisses to one cheek, and then another, and then she’s pulling Trixie toward her.

Their lips move softly against each other, and sweet and delicate until it isn’t. The moment Katya pushes her tongue into Trixie’s mouth, Trixie hears a whine escape the back of her throat, and then Katya’s kissing her intently, with purpose.

Katya’s hands are everywhere, squeezing her arms and shoulders, sinking into her back. Trixie wants Katya to sink her hands into her breasts, to knead and squeeze them until Trixie’s squirming - but she doesn’t know how to ask.

Trixie’s got her arms wrapped around Katya’s neck, and then she feels herself being pushed back into the pillows that cushion the arm of the couch.

“Is this okay?” Katya breaks the kiss for a moment to say it against Trixie’s lips.

“Yeah….yes,” Trixie gasps out. Her voice sounds breathy and broken, and it makes Katya smile against her lips before sucking on them, gently easing her tongue back into Trixie’s mouth.

And then Trixie’s lying down across the couch with Katya spread out top of her, her knees on straddling Trixie’s hips as her forearms rest on either side of Trixie’s head. 

Katya kisses her with earnest and just a hint of desperation. Every time the kiss deepens Trixie can feel herself being pushed more firmly into the couch cushion, and she wants Katya to swallow her whole.

Trixie has her arms firmly wrapped around the woman, trying her best to gently urge Katya to press their midriffs together, desperate for friction, desperate for Katya to put her whole weight on top of her.

Frustratingly, Katya keeps her knees on either side of Trixie’s waist, but she ducks her head down to suck on Trixie’s neck, and Trixie feels like her whole body is on fire. 

She tangles her fingers into Katya’s hair and hears herself let out breathy gasps paired with broken moans. Every sound she makes only seems to urge Katya on. It’s intoxicating - she feels like she’s drunk off of Katya and she doesn’t want to get sober anytime soon.

At some point, Katya moves her lips back to Trixie’s, and Trixie smiles into the kiss. Katya practically mewls in pleasure, biting Trixie’s lip until she’s gasping in delight.

All the while, Trixie’s trying her best to pull Katya closer to her, determined to be enveloped in her weight and her warmth. Katya resists until she’s straddling Trixie’s thigh, bucking down into her with a gasp - and then she’s pulling away, jerking her lips from Trixie’s.

Katya rests her forehead against Trixie’s, and for a few moments they’re silent, just trying to catch their breaths. When Trixie tries to chase after Katya’s lips, she doesn’t yield to her, sitting up until she’s sitting up on the back of her calves.

“I think we should cool down,” Katya says. Her voice is cracked and strained, and Trixie thinks that she looks absolutely wrecked. All they’d done was kiss, but Katya’s lips are swollen and impossibly pink, her cheeks are flushed, and her hair is a mess from where Trixie had pulled on it. Trixie thinks it’s the most beautiful she’s ever looked.

Trixie considers protesting - she wants to be kissing Katya again so badly. But Katya looks determined, and Trixie doesn’t think her argument would hold up.

“Okay,” Trixie says.

They resettle until they’re beside each other again, sitting up with their eyes on the film.

“Oh, come here,” Katya says, pulling Trixie in until her head is on Katya’s chest, with Katya’s arms wrapped around her. Trixie’s almost happy Katya can’t see her face, because she’s still blushing furiously - except now she’s smiling like an idiot, too.

“Love kissing you,” Katya mumbles into Trixie’s hair, planting a small kiss on the top of her hair.

Trixie pulls Katya’s arms tighter around her and feels light move through her body.

“You too, Kat.”  
***

When Katya had left for work that morning, she had locked herself in the employee’s restroom the moment she set foot in the center, with two fingers buried inside her.

She quickly got herself off, with images of Trixie’s flushed face and glazed over eyes ripe in her mind. 

“Fuck,” she whispered as she rested her head against her forearm, which was supporting her weight against the bathroom wall. She could still taste Trixie’s lips on her own.

Getting to kiss Trixie at the wedding has awakened a hunger in Katya that she had forgotten existed. She’s been feeling like a horny college student again, first discovering sex, and first discovering sex with _Trixie._ It’s exciting, fun, hot, and so so sweet. But the thing is, Katya’s been so horny she feels like she’s gonna explode.

All it had taken was accidentally biting Trixie on the lip that morning - and then she had to go and let out that _whine_ and it was like something primal had taken over Katya. She had forgotten just how good it felt to kiss Trixie like that until Katya’s tongue was in her mouth and her hands were in Trixie’s hair and Trixie just opened for her like the sweetest girl, warm and soft and pliant as Katya devoured her.

She felt like she needed to get herself off just to make it through the day, and even then, she found herself continually distracted with images of Trixie in her mind, replaying her question in her mind.

_“Can we pick this up later tonight?”_

The words been running through Katya’s mind in a loop since Trixie had gasped them out.

And then the evening had come, and Trixie had melted into her again, moaning so sweetly and kissing Katya back like she needed to. It was intense and hot and good, but Katya felt like she needed more, and holding herself back took an absolutely olympian effort. 

She had kept her hips carefully hovering above Trixie’s, had kept her groping to a minimum and resisted letting her hands stray to Trixie’s breasts.

A part of her doesn’t know why she’s trying so hard to hold back with Trixie. They’re _married,_ for fuck’s sake, and they’ve had sex more times than Katya can count. The first time they had even kissed had led to fucking later that night - they had never exactly been the type of couple to take things slow.

But the thing is that Trixie doesn’t remember any of that. Katya knows from stories that 18-year-old Trixie wasn’t entirely inexperienced, but any and all sexual endeavors she had had were extremely limited. Katya tells herself that she’ll be a good wife, a good partner, a good friend, and ease Trixie into things, that she won’t make her do anything she’s not comfortable with.

***

As time goes on, Katya’s promise to herself becomes increasingly harder.

The makeout sessions like the one they’d had with Moulin Rouge playing in the background become a regular part of Trixie and Katya’s routine. 

More and more of the kisses before one of them leaves for work turn into two kisses, then three, until one is staring at the other’s lips, and then they’re a tangle of limbs against the wall, gasping into each other’s mouths.

They stop using the premise of putting on a movie at night, and shortly after they’re done with dinner, they’re sinking into each other on the couch. 

One night Katya’s sitting up with her back against the back of the couch, and Trixie’s straddling her hips with her thick thighs that Katya’s been digging her fingers into all evening. The first time she does it, Trixie gasps, and Katya takes it as an opportunity to work her tongue into her mouth. By the fifth time Katya does it, Trixie’s sinking lower into Katya’s lap, spreading her thighs further apart and inching dangerously close to putting her hips in contact with Katya’s. 

Trixie’s sucking on Katya’s bottom lip and Katya’s moaning before she moves her lips to Trixie’s neck, sucking on the soft skin there until Trixie’s whining with her head tilted back.

“Katya…” she breathes out. Katya loves when Trixie gasps out her name. She loves every sound that Trixie makes when they’re pressed against each other like this, but there’s something special about hearing her name leave Trixie’s pretty little plump lips, flushed and swollen from Katya sucking on them.

“Katya….touch me….”

When she says it, Katya pauses and rests her lips against Trixie’s neck.

 _This woman is really gonna be the death of me,_ she thinks. She’s about to suggest taking a step back to cool off when Trixie’s guiding Katya’s hands to her breasts, and Katya feels herself hypnotized by the movement. Trixie’s sitting back on her calves, with her legs spread around Katya’s thighs, and Katya has a perfect view of Trixie flushed and panting in front of her. 

As soon as Katya feels the warmth of Trixie’s breasts in her hands - even over the fabric of her t-shirt - she feels herself let out a sigh of content. She swipes her thumbs over where she can feel Trixie’s nipples through the fabric and revels in the little gasp that escapes her woman’s lips.

She gives Trixie’s tits a tight squeeze and listens to her yelp in surprise. 

“Come here,” Katya chuckles, and Trixie’s on her again, kissing her slowly as her tongue explores Katya’s mouth. Katya lets out a sigh of content as she feels Trixie’s tits pressed firmly against her own.

Katya doesn’t know what’s keeping her from going further with Trixie. The fact that Trixie wants her is clear from the way that Trixie gets whiny and impatient when Katya pulls away, from the way that she urgently bucks her hips under Katya or presses their tits together that she wants more. Meanwhile, Katya always finds herself in the same position, pulling back, prying herself off of Trixie as if compelled to do so by some higher force. 

Katya’s overcome with the urge to hold Trixie down and eat her out for hours, to fuck her slowly with her fingers and her toys. She’s been quickly getting herself off on that couch each night, going to sleep unsatisfied and sticky. It’s all driving her crazy, and she feels like she’s about to break.

One day at the center, Jinkx comes lightly knocking on Katya’s door around lunchtime. She’s just come back from her honeymoon, and the two of them end up going out to lunch together to catch up.

For the short time that Jinkx has been back at work, she’s had a sort of glow around her. Marital bliss must be treating her well, and from the sounds of it, the honeymoon treated her even better.

They’d scraped up enough money to go to the Bahamas, and Jinkx is dreamily recounting the beach that was right next to the hotel they stayed at.

“But to be honest, we didn’t exactly see much of the beach at all,” Jinkx says. She emphasizes it with a huge, dramatic wink, and Katya has to roll her eyes.

“Dela’s pussy must be drenched in fucking codeine and fairy dust, you’ve looked like you’re about to sink into some fairytale dreamland of sex since you’ve come back.”

Jinkx lets out her signature cackle, and Katya gets a kick out of nearby patrons looking on in display. 

“Don’t act like you don’t know the feeling, missy,” Jinkx says. “I remember all those mornings you used to stumble in here late looking like you’ve barely made it out of bed and out of Trixie.” Katya flushes, thinking it hits a little too close to home at the moment. “And that reminds me….You’ve been looking awfully dreamy yourself these days. Forgive me if this is too _crass,_ but have you and your lady, you know, gotten back to it?”

Katya takes her time chewing her sandwich and then swallows thickly, feeling the intensity of Jinkx’s gaze on her all the while.

“I mean we’ve done….things….but we’re taking it slow.”

“‘Taking it slow?’” Jinkx says loudly enough for Katya to start shushing her. “She’s been up and well again for a hot minute, and you were - oh, I don’t know - _together for ten years before that._ ”

“Jinkx, it’s not that simple,” Katya says quietly. The last thing she needs is a group of nosy restaurant-goers eavesdropping on this conversation in particular.

“Ok, tell me what’s so complicated, then?” Katya takes a moment to hesitate, during which Jinkx rolls her eyes and jumps in again. “Do you wanna have sex with her and does she wanna have sex with you?”

“Jesus Jinkx, keep your voice down.” Katya anxiously looks around her to make sure no one’s listening in. Jinkx just sits there with her arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. Katya lets out a sigh. “Yes, I want to sleep with her. And I’m….pretty sure she wants to sleep with me.”

“Then what’s the problem?”

“I don’t know! I’m - I - don’t wanna overwhelm her-”

“Okay. Katya. I’m gonna need you to listen to me here.” Katya’s almost relieved when Jinkx interrupts her, and is definitely a little calmer when she leans in close to speak instead of announcing their business to the restaurant at large. “I don’t know if this is any of my business, but whatever, I think you need to hear it. Trixie is not an 18-year-old.” She pauses, and maintains eye contact with Katya like she’s waiting for it to sink it. “Okay? She is a 29-year-old _woman,_ and she is your wife. You care about each other a lot and are obviously extremely attracted to each other. You are allowed to have sex.”

Katya’s stunned, and can’t find her words for a moment.

As soon as Jinkx says it, she realizes it’s exactly what’s been mulling around in the back of her mind since she starting kissing Trixie again. It feels good to hear it said out loud.

She lets it sink it that she hasn’t exactly been fair to Trixie, that she really is a woman, not the young girl whose headspace she was in when she first woke up. And she’s not only a woman - she’s Katya’s wife, who Katya loves and adores and likes so, so much - who likes Katya back and trusts her enough to let them go as far as they have.

“Shit,” Katya says, staring down at the remains of her sandwich. “You’re right, Jinkx.”

“I know,” Jinkx says, plucking up a piece of Katya’s lunch and placing it in her mouth. “And you’re welcome. Let me know if you need help finding your dildo drawer.”

A few days pass, and Katya has time to mull over Jinkx’s advice. She and Trixie don’t have much time to commit to their now-regular makeout sessions on the couch, as Trixie finds herself busy with classes and work, and Katya’s been staying later at the center to help train a new yoga instructor.

Finally, it’s a Friday night and they’ve both finished dinner when Trixie looks over at Katya with what she can only describe as bedroom eyes. They’re hooded and heavy and her cheeks are already flushed. The fact that Trixie gets so worked up for her never fails to drive Katya crazy, and now is no exception.

“I missed you,” Trixie says, idly making circles in Katya’s palm with her nails. She pulls Katya’s hand up to her lips and kisses her fingers, and Katya takes the opportunity to push her fingers into Trixie’s mouth. Trixie’s lips are plush and pliant and her tongue is warm as she obediently sucks on Katya’s fingers. Katya can’t help but to wonder if her mouth would open just as prettily for Katya’s cunt.

“Lie down,” Katya says. Her voice comes out low, and she watches as pink spreads over Trixie’s cheeks. Katya thinks that if she imagines hard enough, she can remember how that blush blooms over Trixie’s chest, her breasts, the bottom of her stomach. Hopefully, she won’t have to imagine for much longer.

As soon as Trixie lies down on the couch, Katya’s angling herself on top of her, kissing her deeply as Trixie tangles her hands into Katya’s hair.

Katya swallows every little moan and whine Trixie lets out, sucking and biting on her lips to get Trixie louder until they’re both hot, heavy, and frustrated with the layers of clothes between them.

Katya straddles Trixie’s thigh and bucks into her, sucking on her neck so that Trixie lets out a high-pitched moan. This is just about the time that Katya would pull away, insisting that they cool down. But she doesn’t want to do that tonight, and she doesn’t think Trixie does, either. When Katya kneads Trixie’s tits over her shirt and swipes her thumbs over her nipples, Trixie lets out a gasp and Katya moves to suck on her bottom lip.

“Katya….” she breathes out. Trixie’s eyes are wide, and Katya thinks that she can sense how the energy in the room has shifted.

“Hey,” Katya says. Her voice is cracked and breathy, but she pulls back enough to look into Trixie’s hooded eyes. “How about we move this to the bedroom?” She says it softly as she can manage with her cunt pressed into Trixie’s thigh and a handful of Trixie’s tits.

Trixie’s eyes widen, and Katya thinks she catches the corners of Trixie’s mouth perking up.

“Yeah. Yes. I want that that, Katya - _please._ ”

“Okay,” Katya says into Trixie’s lips, before kissing her quickly then untangling them from each other to stand up. She lightly tugs on Trixie’s wrist and guides them into the bedroom.

So far most of their encounters have been hot and heavy, including the one they just had on the couch. But when Katya guides Trixie to lie down on the bed, it’s gentle, almost reverent, and she finds herself delicately resting a hand on Trixie’s cheek when she straddles her hips and hovers over her.

She’s kissing Trixie softly until Trixie starts whining into her mouth.

“Katya,” she says. “Please….” Trixie takes Katya’s wrists and guides them to the hem of her shirt, maintaining eye contact with her the whole time. “I want you to _touch me._ ” She guides Katya’s hands under her sleep shirt until Katya’s grasping Trixie’s breasts - her actual breasts, not the shirt covering her breasts. Katya lets out a sigh of relief as she kneads and pinches the soft, familiar skin. She missed this feeling, thinks she’s so excited and so relieved to have it back.

Trixie pushes the hem of her shirt up over her breasts so that Katya gets to look at her hands squishing Trixie’s tits together. She’s so beautiful, and Katya finds she’s short of breath.

She ducks down and sucks one of Trixie’s breasts into her mouth while she swipes her thumb over the nipple of the other, revelling in the breathy gasps Trixie’s letting out. Trixie’s back is arching off the bed and she’s wrapped her legs around Katya’s waist. It’s still not close enough.

“I’ve wanted you for so long,” Trixie gasps out. She has her hands tangled in Katya’s hair, and her grip tightens when Katya runs her thumb over Trixie’s nipple, softly biting it them humming into Trixie’s skin. 

“You too, baby,” Katya says into her chest as she moves her mouth to suck on Trixie’s other tit. So long, she thinks. You have no idea. “Clothes off,” Katya mutters, licking a stripe up Trixie’s neck over her pulse. She feels it beating furiously, along with her own.

Trixie pulls her sleep shirt over her head and shimmies out of her shorts and panties, and for a moment Katya finds it hard to breathe.

Trixie’s so beautiful laid out before her like this, with her thick thighs flushed and her heavy tits still red from where Katya’s rubbed and sucked them. Her face is pink and her hair is spread out before her like a halo, and Katya thinks that she looks so pretty and so fuckable, open and pink and pliant for her.

“God,” Katya breathes out. She rubs a hand up Trixie’s side, pinching her hip and then her nipple until Trixie squirms.

“Katya,” Trixie whines, pulling at Katya’s pajamas. “Come on, I wanna see you.”

Katya nods and then slips out of her shorts and panties, shucking off her shirt. Trixie sits up and Katya takes the opportunity to straddle her lap. She feels like she’s folding herself into trixie, who runs her hands up and down her waist, rubbing her hips and squeezing Katya’s small, perky breasts in her hands.

“You’re so hot,” Trixie breathes out. Her jaw is hanging open a little bit and she looks mesmerized. The fact that she wants Katya this much only gets her that much more riled up - but it also makes something comforting like relief spread throughout her chest. Katya still remembers when Trixie could hardly look at her, still remembers the fear at the possibility that Trixie may never want her like this again. 

But now she’s got Trixie flushed and desperate in her arms, raking her eyes over Katya and telling her she wants her. It’s so much for Katya - so much good that she never thought she’d get back again. She gives Trixie a little squeeze and decides she’s going to make give this woman everything she wants.

Katya kisses Trixie sweetly, then mutters, “Lie down, baby,” against her lips. She lightly pushes at Trixie’s chest and feels something hot in her stomach stir as Trixie obeys her even slightest touch. “Good girl,” she says, and watches Trixie’s hips jerk up. _She likes that,_ Katya realizes, thinks _that’s new,_ and decides she’ll have to remember that for later.

Katya kisses down Trixie’s stomach until her nose is just at Trixie’s entrance.

“Spread your legs for me, baby,” Katya says. She watches as Trixie’s thighs shiver. “I’m gonna make you so feel good.”

Normally Katya would tease her a bit more, but it’s been so fucking long and they’re both practically vibrating with desperation. So Katya licks up Trixie’s folds and rubs her nose against her clit, humming in delight when the friction makes Trixie cry out.

“Katya,” she whines. Katya glances up to see Trixie’s hands grasping at the covers beneath her as she closes her eyes.

Katya gets a grip on Trixie’s hips and plants them firmly on the bed, holding her there so that she can’t buck up into the air.

“Be a good girl,” Katya warns, lightly kissing Trixie’s swollen clit. “My good girl….” 

From there Katya doesn’t hold back, sucking on Trixie’s clit as she slides in one finger, and then another. She gets a rhythm going, thrusting her fingers in and out of Trixie at the same pace that she sucks on her pink little clit. When Trixie’s whines get especially high and there are hitches in her breathing, Katya uses her forearm to hold down her hips, sucks hard on Trixie’s clit and angles her fingers up to press on Trixie’s g-spot. 

And then Trixie’s muscles are fluttering around Katya’s fingers and tongue and she’s letting out a high-pitched gasp. Katya eases her through it, lightly thrusting her fingers in and out and licking at her clit until Trixie’s breathing eases into a normal rhythm.

Katya pulls herself up the bed and finds Trixie looking sated and warm. Katya cradles her face in her hand.

“Baby….” she says, and watched Trixie keen. She kisses Trixie slowly, mutters, “You were so good for me,” against her lips.

“Katya,” Trixie says, pushing her away slightly. “What about you, I wanna make you feel good too.”

“That’s okay, Trix-”

“No.” Trixie’s looking at her sharp and determined, and Katya feels a rush in her chest. “Show me how.”

Katya nods and then moves to lie on her side facing Trixie, who positions herself to mirror Katya. Katya takes a moment to rake her eyes over her woman, records her rosy cheeks and her puffy tits, the way her whole body looks so soft and warm. Trixie’s eyes are eager and dripping with want, and Katya thinks about their first time together, crouching over the tiny twin bed in Katya’s dorm room. Katya knows that Trixie wouldn’t be able to recall the night if she brought it up, but this moment feels tender and familiar and so, so good, Katya decides that it doesn’t matter. 

“Here, baby.” Katya gently takes Trixie’s wrist and guides her fingers down toward her entrance. “Slowly, with your fingers just - _ah_ -” Katya gasps as Trixie slips two fingers inside.

“Is this okay?” Trixie says. It’s so innocent that Katya’s resisting the urge to pounce her again then and there. 

“Yeah, yeah, just curl your fingers up and try to press against this spot this feels a little uneven - _ohmygod._ ” Katya buries her face in Trixie’s shoulder as Trixie works against her g spot with her fingers and gently rubs Katya’s clit with her thumb.

“Is that okay?” Trixie whispers it into Katya’s hair. Katya can only nod, grabbing Trixie’s wrist to make her go harder.

Before long, Katya’s coming, trying her best not to bite Trixie’s shoulder. Instead she lets out a loud gasp right above Trixie’s breast, holding on to Trixie’s hip.

Trixie rides her through the orgasm then slips her fingers out and wipes them on the bedsheets. Katya takes a moment to catch her breath before rolling onto her back and pulling Trixie to her.

“Come here, baby,” Katya says, kissing the top of Trixie’s head. Trixie winds her arm around Katya’s waist and tangles their legs together. The electricity running through her while Trixie’s pressed to her oversensitive skin is so heady that Katya’s overwhelmed, and all she can do is stare at the ceiling, holding Trixie tighter.

“Can’t believe I finally got you into bed with me,” Trixie says. Katya laughs and feels Trixie shake against her. “Took you long enough.”

“Well, it was a big sacrifice, but someone’s gotta do it.” Trixie giggles and pushes at Katya’s shoulder.

“I still want you to actually fuck me, though. Like good and proper.”

“Jesus Christ, Trix,” Katya breathes out. “You’ve been googling, haven’t you?” She feels Trixie smile into her chest and she squeezes the woman lying on top of her. “Another night, baby. Grandma’s all tuckered out.”

Trixie giggles against her, and then they’re holding each other in silence.

“Stay with me tonight.” Trixie’s voice is small, but it breaks the quiet of the room. Katya feels her heart stop.

“Are you sure?”

“ _Yes,_ ” Trixie says. “I wanna fall asleep next to you.” The words make Katya’s chest fill with light.

When they finally clean up and get their pajamas back on, Katya finds herself more relieved than she would have predicted to be crawling back into her own bed - and with her own woman, too. 

Trixie immediately cuddles into her, and Katya takes the opportunity to wrap an arm around Trixie’s waist, taking the position of the big spoon. It feels comfortable and warm and so, so right.

They fall asleep like that, pressed against each other with their breathing matched up. Katya thinks that it feels like coming home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you to my lovely amazing girlfriend for sitting there and giving me grammatical feedback about that porn I wrote :)


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just...I love what we’ve been doing - I mean, I really love it, wow - but I want….more? I wanna know if there’s more.”
> 
> Katya’s eye’s twinkle and she looks like she’s trying not to crack a smile.
> 
> “Beatrice, have you been googling without me again?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone - or whoever is left following this story after such a long time. Welcome to the chapter that took me an entire semester to write. This is mainly self indulgent and pretty short, but I'm working on the next chapter and I'm planning on that one being longer and more plot driven. I'm only planning on writing a few more chapters of this, but I've sketched them out. Now that it's summer I'm pushing myself to write more, and I think I'm going to start updating weekly again (please hold me to that). 
> 
> Anyways, please enjoy these girls - I hope you missed them as much as I did. And a big thank you to everyone who's stuck around this long <3

Ever since she’s started fooling around with Katya, Trixie feels like her chest is lighter. 

If she’s honest, she thinks that it’s put a change on their whole relationship for the better. She and Katya have taken to sending flirty, suggestive texts to each other throughout the day, which turns into them just texting each other more throughout the day in general. Trixie will take the time to pull out her phone during her break and send Katya a few voice memos about her most annoying customers, snapping pics of her favorite new product the store’s brought in, or sending Katya a link to something Trixie thinks she’ll enjoy.

By the time her second break rolls around, Trixie will usually be greeted by a storm of responses from Katya, in the form of texts, voice messages, and photos. Trixie will pull out her phone and feel a smile take over her face, sinking into a chair in the breakroom, eager and excited to see what her woman’s sent her.

They’ve also been more physically affectionate in general. When they’re out in public, it’s become second nature for Trixie to tangle her fingers with Katya’s, or slip into her embrace as they’re walking down the street. 

They’re more comfortable with each other, too. Trixie finds that she’s content to sit in silence with Katya, and doesn’t feel nervous about running out of things to say. As much as she’s enjoyed Katya’s grand gestures made in an effort to romance her, she thinks that she likes this even more. The sensation of having someone in a room with you and not having to perform a different version of yourself is comforting and calming, and she doesn’t know how to thank Katya for it.

One morning they don’t have work until a little bit later, so they get to take it slower, preparing a bigger breakfast together instead of rushing to get dressed and shower. 

Katya’s cutting something up when Trixie finds her gaze lingering on the woman’s fingers, and something occurs to her that she’s not sure how she’s missed. 

“Katya,” she says.

“Hm?” Katya glances up, but otherwise keeps her focus on the food.

“Where are my wedding rings?”

Katya goes still, and then her gaze snaps up to meet Trixie’s. She thinks that Katya looks like she’s got tears in her eyes - but it could also just be her imagination.

“Um - uh - yeah. Yeah, I can go get those.” Katya shakes her head and looks a little scrambled, leaving her utensils on the kitchen counter.

Katya disappears into their room for a minute, and then comes out with a little box.

“I was gonna keep it in a bag, but it just didn’t feel right - and I didn’t wanna make you wear them right after you came back from the hospital, it might have felt a little weird and-”

“Katya,” Trixie interrupts her. She clears her throat and then delicately sticks out her left hand, trying her best to contain the smile threatening to take over her face. 

Katya’s eyes are wide as she glances back and forth between Trixie’s face, Trixie’s hand, and the box she’s carrying. In a few moments she comes back to herself, and then she’s popping open the box and fumbles with the two golden bands inside.

She slips the wedding ring on Trixie’s finger first, and Trixie takes a moment to inspect it. It’s a plain gold band, thin and shiny, and it rests perfectly on the end of Trixie’s finger.

“I love it,” Trixie says. She looks up to see Katya staring at her with a small smile on her face, nervously playing with the engagement ring, rolling it between her fingers. Her flushed cheeks make it look like she’s barely keeping herself together.

Trixie sticks her hand out again, and this time Katya places the box down on the kitchen counter and takes Trixie’s hand in both of hers. With shaking palms, Katya carefully slides the engagement ring over Trixie’s ring finger, then doesn’t let go of Trixie when she’s done.

The diamond is big and sparkly with little diamonds surrounding it. It’s exactly what she would have picked out for herself, and she’s overwhelmed with something strong that she can’t exactly put a name to. 

When Trixie tries to speak, she finds her voice to be cracked, and she thinks she must be as teary as Katya.

“It’s perfect,” she says. Katya strokes her thumbs over Trixie’s fingers. They’re both shaking.

“Hey, Trixie? Come here for a second.”

Trixie has a couple inches on Katya, but when they hold each other, she always manages to be able to fold into Katya’s arms like she’s the tiny one. Now is no different, as they grasp each other tightly and Trixie buries her face into Katya’s shoulder. Katya wraps her arms tightly around Trixie’s waist and runs shaking fingers up and down her back.

Trixie is beginning to feel connected to Katya in a way she can’t explain. She thinks that maybe her body is remembering Katya even though her brain doesn’t seem to be catching up, because she always feels inclined to reach out to her, whether they’re alone in a room or in the middle of a crowded street. Whether it’s absently tangling her fingers with Katya’s or hoisting her legs into Katya’s lap, Trixie finds herself needing to find a way to press their skin together.

* * *

One night they skip the preface of putting on a movie and go straight to making out on the couch, and Trixie feels that familiar warmth run through the bottom of her stomach and Katya pushes her on to her back, getting heady with the sensation of Katya’s weight pressing her down. She wants to be held and kept there until she forgets how to breathe.

“Katya,” she gasps out. A few minutes pass and they’ve shucked off their tops and Katya’s got her hand down Trixie’s pants. “I want more.”

“Okay, baby, just give me a sec - ”

“No, Katya I mean….” Trixie’s voice trails off as she feels her cheeks get warm, and she ducks her head to the side in embarrassment.

“Trix, baby.” Katya gently puts her hand on Trixie’s cheek, guiding her gaze back to be connected to her own. “What is it? You don’t need to be embarrassed, it’s me.”

Trixie tangles her fingers with Katya’s where they rest on her cheek and she nods, decides that Katya’s right, she shouldn’t have to feel nervous.

“I just...I love what we’ve been doing - I mean, I really love it, wow - but I want….more? I wanna know if there’s more.”

Katya’s eye’s twinkle and she looks like she’s trying not to crack a smile.

“Beatrice, have you been googling without me again?”

Trixie barks out a laugh and pushes on Katya’s shoulder. They’re both laughing together until Katya pulling herself off of Trixie to stand up. Trixie instinctively whines at the loss. 

“Come with me, dear.” Trixie gets up to take Katya’s hand, and then she’s following her into the bedroom. “I don’t know exactly what you know or what you’ve heard - the general knowledge on lesbian sex is slim in general and even slimmer in Wisconsin, as I’m sure you more than know - but, there are still….more things we can do.”

Katya crouches under the bed to pull out a hefty box, and Trixie feels her heart pumping. She has an inkling as to what’s inside, but she doesn’t want to do any jinxing. But then Katya’s throwing the lid off, and Trixie is met face to face with an extremely generous collection of sex toys.

“Oh wow,” Trixie says. Katya’s standing beside her with her hands on her hips while Trixie lets her jaw drop.

“Yup, this is about it for the Trixie and Katya strap on collection.”

Trixie finds herself slowly approaching the box, and without thinking, she’s running her hand over one of the dildos. It’s pink and short and girthy and Trixie thinks it’s almost….cute.

She hears Katya clear her through beside her and turns to see the woman blushing.

“That one uh….that’s not exactly a favorite of ours, and I don’t know how this might work with your muscle memory kicking in or whatever but uh….I mean, we can try that one if you’d like or - ”

“Katya.” Trixie cuts off her rambling to smile at the woman. “Can you tell me which one is our favorite?”

In a matter of minutes, Trixie’s stripped and laid herself out on the bed, playing with a strand of hair and curling her toes into the sheets as she watches set up the strap. Katya’s completely naked but for the leather harness she’s got about her hips, and Trixie feels her whole body pulsing the longer she stares at the definitions along Katya’s stomach, the dark pink tips of her hardening nipples, the way the muscles in her arms contract as she goes through the motions.

 _She’s so strong,_ Trixie thinks, not for the first time. _I bet she wouldn’t have any problem holding me down, if I asked…._

“Alright, you ready Trix?” Katya’s all set up with the strap-on, and she’s looking at Trixie with soft eyes. Trixie takes a few moments to run her eyes over the woman, and she sees everything hard and gentle about her. She has deep-set muscles in her stomach, arms, thighs, shoulders, and her cheekbones and jaw are sharp enough to cut glass. But she’s got the softest of hands, and eyes warm enough to melt newfallen snow - pillowy breasts with cute little goosebumps that Trixie wants to kiss and kiss and kiss. And she looks so _hot_ with that dick strapped to her. Trixie thinks it’s all intensified by the fact that Katya’s standing and moving like the thing is actually attached to her, and Trixie takes a moment to revel in the idea of Katya being able to feel herself slip inside her.

“Come here,” Trixie says, and watches as a smile spreads over Katya’s face and she crawls onto the bed. 

Katya’s put on a long but thin purple dildo that curves upwards just a bit. It looks awfully skinny to Trixie, but Katya tells her it’ll be more than enough once they get going.

Katya straddles Trixie and immediately cradles Trixie’s face in her hands. Trixie’s just thinking that she could melt in her eyes when Katya’s lips are on hers, soft at first and then urgent. Trixie grinds her hips up into Katya, and that’s all it takes for something to snap in the other woman. Katya’s massaging Trixie’s breasts and biting her lip, waiting until she gets a gasp out of Trixie to move down to her neck, where she kisses Trixie there while grinding down into her.

“Katya…. _please_....” Katya quickly gives Trixie one last fleeting kiss, and then she’s grabbing the lube that she set on the nightstand. Trixie didn’t exactly understand why they needed it, but Katya had promised that it would make everything feel a lot better.

“Okay baby, I’m gonna stretch you out a bit here before we started -”

“I’m already _stretched_ out, please Katya -”

“Shhh,” Katya shushes her, planting soft kisses on the edge of Trixie’s lips. “It’ll feel better baby, just give me a second. You can wait a second, can’t you?” Trixie feels her cheeks flush as Katya’s tone takes a teasing turn. There’s something about Katya getting like this that sends an electric current through Trixie’s body.

Katya pours some lube on her fingers, then rubs her hands together to warm them up.

“Ready baby? I’m gonna start with two.” Katya easily slips in two fingers, then three, and then four, carefully nudging her pinky inside. The motion makes Trixie buck her hips in the air, and for a second Katya takes her time to pump her fingers in and out of Trixie. When Trixie looks down at the sight, she sees her wife almost in a trance. She knows Katya loves seeing herself slide and out of Trixie, always taunts her about the sound - _you’re so wet for me baby - God, do you hear yourself? Fuck_ \- and Trixie can tell she’s getting just a bit lost in it.

Trixie lets out a little whine, and the sound seems to bring Katya back to reality. 

“Good girl,” Katya breathes. “All stretched out for me.”

She grabs the little bottle from the night stand once again, and this time Katya sits back on her heels to lube herself u. The sight makes Trixie mewl. Katya doesn’t pretend not to hear it, smugly looking up at Trixie and making a show of pumping herself dramatically as she grinds up, like she can feel the movements on the purple dick.

Trixie starts whining again until Katya chuckles, and then Katya’s positioning herself over Trixie missionary style. 

It’s a little more clunky than Trixie might have played it out to be in her daydreams, the positioning of either woman’s legs until they’re lined up just right. But the entire time Katya is so sweet, asking “Is this okay? What about here? That’s alright? Okay baby, okay.”

Finally, Katya got her hands on either side of Trixie’s face, and she’s in position.

“You ready, baby?”

All Trixie can do is nod, and then Katya is leaning down to softly kiss her as she also moves her hips forward. As Trixie feels the head enter her, she lets out a little gasp, and Katya takes the opportunity to suck on her bottom lip.

“Good girl,” Katya breathes. “That’s my good girl.”

Katya continues whispering little endearments as she slowly pushes inside her, and Trixie feels her toes curl into the bed. It feels so good to be _full_ , she thinks, and even though the dick isn’t attached to Katya, it’s Katya hovering over her and Katya’s lips on her neck and Katya’s breath in her face and Katya’s face that twists up in amusement as Trixie lets out little moans.

“I’m all the way in now baby,” Katya says softly, hovering about an inch from Trixie’s face. “I’m gonna let you adjust a little bit, alright? How’s it feel?”

“ _So good._ ” Trixie is surprised at her own voice, how gaspy and needy it is. She watches Katya’s face flush with approval and it sends a jolt of energy through Trixie’s own body. She feels her nipples harden. 

“Katya can - can you move?”

Katya traces a finger over Trixie’s lips and Trixie feels herself let out a pathetic little mewl. 

“You want me to do what now, baby?”

 _God she’s so hot,_ Trixie thinks, she’s almost shivering with it.  
“ _Fuck me_ , Katya, please fuck me, _please._ ”

“Mmm,” Katya hums in amusement. Trixie feels like she’s going to melt. “Yeah I’ll fuck you baby, okay.”

Katya starts her thrusts slowly, but there’s not enough friction and Trixie tells her so. So she starts hard and deep, and Trixie starts to understand why the dick was curved up. Every time Katya thrusts her hips back enough to almost pull out, she brushes Trixie’s g-spot and Trixie lets out whine.

“Harder, harder, harder,” Trixie hears herself panting, and Katya is quick to oblige. Every time Katya pounds into her Trixie lets out a breathy gasp, furling her fingers in the sheets beneath her. It feels so fucking good, that purple dick hitting her g-spot, Katya’s hips slamming back and forth with the effort, Katya hovering above her with eyes cloudy with want, the sound of Katya’s breath speeding up as she finishes a thrust, the smell of Katya hot and heavy all around her, Katya, Katya, Katya.

The whole time, Katya’s whispering little niceties, telling Trixie what a good girl she is and reminding her that she’s _so fucking gorgeous,_ and _too hot, baby, too fucking hot._

Before long, Trixie hears herself whining again, asking for _more, more, more._

Katya starts making her thrusts shorter and quicker, and Trixie and hear her getting more into it as she does so. _Yeah, baby, take it, take it, you’re so good._

The friction is fucking crazy and Trixie feels so good she thinks she might cry. She squeezes her eyes closed and turns her head to the side, letting the sensations flow over her.

“Katya, Katya, Katya,” she hears herself panting. “God, you feel so good, it’s so good, it’s so good.” She feels herself babbling as the pleasure bubbles up inside her. She feels all her muscles tightening, and she knows what’s about to come.

“Come on, baby,” Katya says. “You can come, come for me baby, you can do it, just let go.”

Trixie lets her legs fall open and tries to relax every muscle in her body, chasing the orgasm building up in her lower stomach, travelling to her cunt.

And then it’s hitting her all at once. Trixie tips her head back and lets out a gasp, feels her toes curl into the sheets beneath her. The orgasm shakes through her body and Katya continues pumping in and out of her until she’s done. Then Trixie is collapsed on the sheets, warm and sated and so, so happy. She feels like a puddle, like she could melt into the pillows beneath her. All she can do is smile and breathe, smile and breathe.

“Wow,” Trixie says. Katya hovers above her, smiling but still clearly buzzing, and Trixie is overcome with the desire to help her. “Katya do you want me to-”

“Shhh baby just - here, keep sitting back, just give me your hand.”

Katya gently pulls out of her, then takes Trixie’s hand in her own, guiding it down to Katya’s cunt until Trixie’s fingers are resting on a familiar little bump.

“There, right there, baby.” Katya tilts her head back as she moves Trixie’s fingers back and forth against her clit, quickly, quickly until Trixie feels Katya’s pussy fluttering against her fingers, tightening and loosening again. Katya lets out a gasp and then a sigh, and then she’s getting the strap off her body and collapsing beside Trixie on the bed.

Trixie feels warm and tingly and good, and when she cuddles into Katya, she feels even better. Katya gently strokes her hair as Trixie nuzzles her head into Katya’s chest. 

“Was that okay, baby?” Katya says.

“Katya, that was fucking spectacular.” The dead-pan answer in contrast to Katya’s soft one makes Katya bark out a laugh, shaking with giggles. 

“You fucking bitch,” Katya laughs into Trixie’s hair, giving her a little peck on the top of the head.

“That was good, we should do that again,” Trixie says, mostly because she knows it’ll make Katya laugh. It does.

“I think that can definitely be arranged, missy,” Katya says. Trixie can hear the smile in her voice. “Now move over and let’s get under the covers. Nothing knocks you out like a good fucking, and not to toot my own dick, but to absolutley toot my own dick, _that_ was a good fucking.”

They get under the covers and turn the lights out, not bothering to change into pajamas and both opting to sleep in the nude. Katya falls asleep quickly, but Trixie stays up for a little bit, listening to Katya’s soft little snores. 

She looks at the sleeping woman in front of her, golden hair splayed out and fanned over he muscular shoulders, her firm back and chest. She’s got a little bit of mascarca clinging to her eyes that Trixie thinks she’ll wipe away with her thumb in the morning. She already knows how Katya will smile and blush and give her a little peck on the lips in thanks. 

As Trixie plays through their morning routine in her head, she feels a warmth spread through her.

They haven’t said the words yet - the three little words that have been floating around in the back of Trixie’s mind - but Trixie feels them, in everything Katya says and does, in how she speaks and breathes and moves.

 _I’m gonna tell her soon,_ Trixie thinks. _I think Katya would want me to say them first._

Trixie plays over scenarios in her head where she springs it on Katya, imagines her possible responses, varying from surprised to keening to - _I absolutely expected that, here on this day._

And Trixie falls asleep like that, content and warm and full of love.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- as always, you can find me on tungle dot com at @katyasgoulfriend  
> \- this chapter is for the woman I love. Thank you, t <3


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Katya tells herself she’s being stupid - most couples their age will consider it a good day if they hear from each other at all during work hours. 
> 
> But this…it isn't them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the second to last chapter. There's one more, and then an epilogue, which I've almost finished.
> 
> Thank you guys for the continuous support on this story, every positive comment makes my whole day. I really hope you like where this ends up <3

After Katya makes love to Trixie in this new way, Trixie can’t get enough of her, and Katya is more than happy to oblige.

She fucks Trixie from behind, listening to her mewl and whine as she opens up for and around Katya; she fucks her on the couch, with one foot firmly on the floor for leverage; she fucks her splayed out on their sheets, their fingers tangled together as Katya babbles on and on about how pretty Trixie is, losing her mind with want.

They cuddle more and they hug longer and kiss deeper, and Katya thinks that this is the closest she’s felt to Trixie in a long time.

Katya’s so overwhelmed with it, sometimes she comes close to slipping up, and she’ll start to say something along the lines of “Remember when we -” or “You know how we used to-” before she cuts herself off, remembers that this Trixie doesn’t remember, won’t be able to recall what Katya’s about to bring up.

It’s always quick and she’s always able to correct herself, but she doesn’t miss the couple times that Trixie’s face falls. When that happens, Katya offers a little, “I’m sorry, baby, that was dumb, don’t worry about it, I’m sorry,” and laughs and changes the subject. In a few minutes, they’ve both carried on like nothing’s happened.

Other than that, things are good - in fact, they’re great. The people Katya works with have been commenting on how might brighter she looks, how there’s a bit of a skip in her step. 

“It’s like we got the old Katya back,” Ginger says one day. Katya smiles, but she can’t put her finger on why the comment unnerves her.

As of late, Katya’s been working longer hours at the center. She’s returned to her regular schedule - before Trixie’s accident - long ago, more than assured that Trixie is independent enough to take care of herself. But she’s been working especially long hours recently, with almost all her employees having some sort of family emergency or illness all at once, leaving her, Ginger, and Alaska staying at the center for longer than they have in years.

Katya barely has any time to glance down at her phone, but when she does, she’s usually greeted by a bombardment of texts from Trixie, with little updates ranging from, _I miss you, when are you coming home :((((_ to _this new manager is such a bitch, I’m gonna lose my fucking mind,_ to _I think I’m gonna order a calzone tonight. Do you like calzones? Fuck it, I’m getting you a calzone._

They’re always the highlight of Katya’s day - that is, until she’s able to actually make it home to Trixie. She thinks that she’d be able to work long hours forever, if she needed to, as long as she got to come home to her pretty, warm woman. When she has thoughts like these, she thinks back to those years right after college, when the warmth of her woman really was the only thing that kept her going, when working long hours was the only way they kept a roof over their heads.

Usually, thinking back on those years makes Katya smile, makes a nostalgic warmth through her. Nowadays, thinking back on them makes her cold.

Katya is so happy, and she thinks that she has every reason to be happy - she loves her job, her home, her wife. So why does she feel so….off? She can’t help but feel like she’s come home after a long business trip and wants to let out a sigh of relief, but everything in the house has been moved slightly to the left, and the breath won’t come out until things are back in their place. It’s a cold feeling, an itchy one, and Katya thinks that she’d give anything to scratch it.

The itch gets deep a few days later, when takes a lunch break and pulls out her phone. Usually by this time, her phone will have been flooded with texts from Trixie, with little updates and rhetorical questions photos and screenshots from the few hours they’ve been apart. But today, she gets two short texts.

9:32am: I miss you already!! (normal, regular, good)  
11:58am: Where do we keep the hot sauce, again?

Two texts, unusually far apart, the second of which is particularly lacking in the regular enthusiasm that tends to be given in texts-from-Trixie.

Katya tells herself she’s being stupid - most couples their age will consider it a good day if they hear from each other at all during work hours. 

But this…it wasn’t them.

Katya shakes her head, responds to both texts and adds a photo of her lunch along with a few updates about her day. She eats her lunch unusually quickly and then gets back to work, shoving her phone away.

Katya’s next break isn’t until a bit later in the day, when she’s only got a few hours left, and texts from Trixie are usually just the pick-me-up she needs to make it through. She’s almost forgotten about the incident at lunch - if you could even call it that, God, why is she so dramatic - when she pulls out her phone, already smiling in anticipation of the texts she’ll have gotten from her wife.

But when Katya looks at the screen, her heart drops.

She unlocks then locks her phone, disconnects then reconnects to wifi, exits out of messenger, thinks, _there must be some mistake._

But after a few minutes she realizes - there is no mistake. She’s got no texts from Trixie.

The blue text blocks she sent at lunch glare at her, reflecting crudely off her face, unanswered and unacknowledged. Katya feels her stomach flip.

She knows she’s being silly - this is nothing, it means nothing. Still, assuming the worst, she opens up Trixie’s location on Find my Friends (for better or for worse, she thinks grimly), but the app shows that Trixie is at home. So nothing’s happened to her - thank God - and her phone is clearly working, or at least on.

Then what gives?

Even on Trixie’s busiest days, she’ll take the time to react to one or all of Katya’s texts, or send a short response. Even more often, she’ll respond with, “I’m swamped, talk to u when u get home, baby!!!! <333333” But today there’s nothing, complete radio silence save the measly two texts Katya got in the morning.

Katya thinks about sending another text, asking if everything’s alright. But then the blocks of texts she sent at lunch glare back at her once again, and she thinks, _no, I’ll wait - I’ll just wait till I get home. Everything’s fine. I know it’s fine._

Regardless, she finishes her shift with butterflies in her stomach.

She wishes she could say that she came home to a happy Trixie, bouncing up and down as she chats away about her day at work, her classes, her upcoming projects, that everything would be as it normally is when Katya arrives home and she could shove The Day of the Two Texts to the back of her mind.

But instead she comes home to an unusually quiet Trixie, washing dishes at the sink. She barely looks up when Katya comes in.

“Hey, baby,” Katya says, hesitantly setting her keys down on the bookshelf next to the door.

“Hey.” Trixie smiles but her voice is clipped. It makes Katya’s stomach sink. When she comes over to give Trixie a little peck on the lips, Trixie obliges, but it’s barely more than a peck.

“Everything okay today, baby?” Katya says, slowly making her way to the bedroom to change out of her work clothes.

“Yeah, of course.” Trixie doesn’t look up from the sink.

“Okay....are you sure?”

“Yup, everything’s fine.” Her gaze remains downward, aimed at nothing but the sink.

“Okay baby,” Katya says, hearing the weariness in her own voice.

That night is quiet, like they’re living in two separate bubbles. It’s the coldest Katya’s felt in her own bed in a long time.

***  
Katya’s been working longer hours, and Trixie’s been getting bored.

She knows she’s being childish, because they live on the edge of Manhattan - there should be no shortage of stores for her to visits, of coffee shops to settle into, of little holes in the wall to find. 

But it’s just been so hot lately, Trixie can’t bring herself to brave the heat, much less the smell of burning garbage, when they’ve got a lovely set of air conditioning boxes blasting cool air at her 24 hours a day.

So Trixie stays in the apartment when she’s home from the makeup counter and done with classwork. But much like the early days, right after she came home from the hospital, Trixie’s reminded of a very important fact about herself: she can’t sit still.

So, she takes to exploring the apartment.

The endeavor starts off as lovely. Trixie hunts through the bookshelf to flip through the pages of novels and short stories she either remembers loving or knows she will, running her hands over the pages that have been dog-eared. She even finds her old favorite, “Breakfast at Tiffany’s” by Truman Capote. She holds the book of short stories close to her chest, takes a breath in and out, feels a warmth run through her.

But her favorite things are the little trinkets she knows she and Katya must have collected together.

She finds a little statue of a cactus and a lily in the corner of the bookshelf; a bronze heart necklace in the bottom of her sock drawer; an old, empty shampoo bottle tucked away in the bathroom drawer, where Katya’s crossed out the label and written KRISIS CONTROL! In black sharpie.

They’re lovely and sweet and Trixie starts to make up stories in her head to explain every little knick-knack and goodie, imagines where she and Katya might have made them or picked them out together.

It’s fun, at first, and Trixie smiles to herself when she realizes just how close and intimate and fun Katya’s and her relationship had been.

But by the tenth, fifteenth, twentieth little trinket Trixie comes across, she starts to feel something in her stomach flip over. 

At the beginning of her search, she’d been excited at the prospect of asking Katya, ‘hey, where did we get that little statue? What about the bottle? What’s the story behind that mixtape?’ But as the trinkets starts piling up, she realizes, _so do the stories._ Stories she wasn’t there for. Little memories throughout their life that make up _them_ \- Katya remembers them all, every one of single one, and Trixie won’t ever get them back.

_You’re being childish,_ Trixie tells herself. _Katya loves you. She loves_ you. Trixie thinks about all the time she’s spent with Katya since she’s come home from the hospital - every date and present and kiss and movie night. She should be feeling a sense of relief wash over her, but she can’t shake the unease in her chest.

Trixie puts all the trinkets back in their place, thinks, _come on, you can at least remember this._ But as she’s putting an old mixtape back under their bed, something catches her eye. She immediately recognizes the shape.

_This is dangerous,_ Trixie tells herself. _Don’t go there._

Moments later, it’s in her hands.

She runs her fingers over the old VHS tape and thinks about how she thought she’d never seen one again. It’s clearly a home video which, although charming, had been made basically obsolete by the iPhone and its HD camera. Trixie doesn’t even have to think about it before she’s moving herself into the living room, fooling around with the TV console trying to figure out how to get the old tape to play.

Finally, she’s got it rewound to the beginning and loading on the screen. She sits back on the edge of the couch, hands placed delicately on the tops of her legs, pulse pounding in her throat.

There had been no title scribbled on the side of the tape. Just a date: May 25, 2004. Just a couple years after she and Katya met.

When the picture comes into view, it starts with a group of people Trixie doesn’t recognize. The camera woman clearly isn’t her or Katya - it belongs to a voice she doesn’t know. Only a few seconds in and Trixie realizes she won’t know much of this movie, or the people in it, at all.

It looks like they’re at someone’s house - a big, open space with a lot of windows. Trixie wonders if it’s a vacation home of some sort, imagines that she and Katya might have been invited to stay with some friend with a trust fund for the beginning of summer.

About a minute passes, and the camera woman is talking to the other girls in the house, making comments about what they’re wearing or teasing them about the boys they’d been dating. Trixie is starting to doubt that she and Katya are in this at all.

But then the person holding the camera is moving into another room, mostly empty but for two young girls huddled together on a couch.

Trixie nearly stops breathing.

Staring back at her is Trixie’s own face - her face, the face she knew before she woke up in a hospital. It’s a little different - just a bit thinner and the hair is a little longer, but that’s her, in a flowy summer dress her aunt had given her for her 18th birthday. She’s sitting with her legs tucked under her, how she sat in high school, how she had trained herself to stop sitting once she realized she was thirty years old.

“HEY, LOVEBIRDS!” comes the voice of the person holding the camera.

Trixie has been so caught up in taking in every familiar curve and facial feature staring back at her that she hasn’t even taken the time to notice: that’s Katya, a ten years younger and just as fucking beautiful, wrapped around Trixie like a cat.

Trixie gasps, and then throws a hand over her mouth, and then for a moment feels like she can’t breathe.

Because that’s them. 

Trixie’s eyes are glued to every action and movement and word passed between them. It only takes her watching for a few moments to realize: they are hopelessly and irrefutably in love.

It’s in everything they do, from the way then-Trixie’s eyes light up when she watches Katya speak to the way Katya’s body seems to curl into and around Trixie’s like that’s where she was born to be. And the way they look at each other - it’s like they speak a secret language, one only they’re privy to. Entire paragraphs pass between these people without either one having to say a word. 

The long she watches, the more she picks up on: Katya folding a piece of Trixie’s hair behind her ear, so naturally Trixie doesn’t even seem to notice; Trixie casually running a finger over Katya’s knee, while neither break eye contact; Trixie seamlessly twining their fingers together as Katya’s focused on changing positions. These people go together like they were born as a whole, torn apart at birth only to find their back to each other years later, with no intention of letting go.

Trixie needs to turn the fucking thing off.

She’s crying, heavily now where it’s hard to breathe. She’s choking on tears and choking on breaths, scrambling forward on her knees to try to eject the fucking tape. 

She’s pushinig every button, turning every knob, but to no avail - something must be wrong with the system. The tape keeps playing. 

She can still hear her own voice muddled with Katya’s, muddled with the voice of the camera woman, and she can see them wrapped up together on that fucking couch, and she’s about to lose her mind. In one movement, Trixie’s scrambling forward and pulling the plug, watching the image on the TV blink out.

And then, quiet.

Trixie breathes. She listens to herself breathe. The breaths are unsteady and shaky, so she counts them. It doesn’t help. She still hears screen-Katya’s laugh ringing in her ears.

Trixie feels herself going through the motions, as she ejects the tape, puts it back in its sleeve, wobbles to the bedroom to put it back under the bed.

That’s when she sees it: on a stack of official-looking papers (she’ll look at those later), about ten more tapes, all home videos, all within a couple years of the one she just watched. 

Trixie pulls them out. She watches all of them.

***

When Katya comes home, Trixie knows she’s not doing a good job at hiding that something’s up. She catches the way Katya’s eyes linger on her as Katya disappears into the bedroom, doesn’t miss the concern dripping from her tone. Trixie’s usually a ball of positivity when Katya comes home, a bubble of energy ready to tell the woman everything about her day. Today, Trixie’s distant and quiet and solemn as she bends over the sink. She washes her dishes from dinner - something she usually waits for Katya to begin, even on the days when Katya’s working the latest and longest. Another red flag Trixie’s flying in the air, unable to keep at her side. She just can’t get the tapes out of her head. And the papers….

Trixie crawls into bed early, decides she’ll get up early, too.

“Goodnight, Trixie,” Katya says, once she’s crawled into bed a few hours later. Trixie’s back is to the woman. She pretends to be asleep.

The next few days are about the same. Trixie’s distant so Katya tiptoes around her. They’re interacting like they’ve got straight jackets on - all movement lacks meaning, all sound lacks movement. She finds herself wishing that Katya would just yell at her, just ask what the hell is going on. She wants Katya to get angry so that she can get angry. She’s imagined different variations of different fights in her head, and each time she just can’t pin down what exactly they’re angry about.

The air is getting tense, and Trixie knows that something is bound to crack.

Then one morning, it shatters.

Trixie’s gotten up early, as she’s taken to doing since she found the videos. The night before, Katya’s mentioned something about them being out of coffee, but Trixie decides to hunt around for some, just in case. 

She has to reach up on her tippy toes to get her hands around it, but she spots an unfamiliar bag of coffee grounds hiding behind something. When she takes it down, she notices all the labels are in Russian, and for a moment she forgets herself and smiles. _Oh, Katya,_ she thinks fondly. The moment is ruined when she remembers where she is, just why she’s gotten up as early as she has.

The beans are already ground, so she scoops out most of the bag and begins making enough for her and the woman sleeping in the other room.

A bit later, Katya comes wandering into the kitchen, sleep still hanging from her eyes.

“Good morning, bab-” Katya stops herself short, which make Trixie snap her gaze up to look at her wife. Any shred of fatigue has been ripped from Katya’s body, as she eyes stare blazing and wide at the something on the counter.

Trixie follows her gaze, and sees that it lands on the coffee grounds.

“Katya? Is everything okay?”

“Where did you find that?” Katya ignores the question, still staring at the grounds.

“Um - in one of the top cupboards. Katya, what’s-”

“I told you we were out of coffee,” Katya cuts her off, doesn’t move her gaze. “I told you we needed to get some more in the morning.”

Trixie puts a hand on her hip, is transitioning from wary to irritated. “And _I_ found some coffee in one of the cupboards.”

“I told you we were out.”

“Well, clearly we weren’t-”

“We _were,_ because we don’t use that coffee.”

“ _We_ clearly do, because _I_ just put some on.”

Katya’s head snaps up. Now she’s staring at Trixie, and Trixie almost wishes she wasn’t. She doesn’t like that look...Katya isn’t supposed to look at her like that.

“Well - I - I’m telling you now, do not use that batch, put it back when you’re done, do not make any more with-”

“Katya, what the fuck is so special about that bag of coffee-”

“ _Trixie gave it to me!_ ”

Katya snaps her hands over her mouth, but it’s too late. What she said hangs in the air between them, and Trixie can hear her pulse beat in her throat.

“Sorry - _who_ gave it to you exactly?”

“Trixie, I’m so-”

“No, no, no, I need you to say that again. _Who_ , exactly, gave you these fucking precious coffee grounds that now _I_ am not allowed to touch?”

She’s taking steps toward Katya, and watching as Katya takes steps back. There’s red rising in the other woman’s cheeks, and Trixie thinks, _good_. She feels like she might start vibrating.

“Katya. I am going to ask you something, and I need you to think very hard before you answer me. What if this is as good as it gets?”

“I - Trix - you-” Katya’s sputtering. Whatever she had been expecting from Trixie, it wasn’t that. “What? What do you mean?”

“I _mean,_ what if I never get my memories back, Katya?” A change comes over the woman’s face, and Trixie knows she’s unlocked a door that won’t be closing any time soon. “I feel us settling into a routine, and I know that it bothers you. I see how bothered you get when people say they’ve ‘got the old Katya back,’ because you haven’t got the old Trixie back, and it doesn’t feel fair. We’re happy and we’re good, but I’m not her.” _I’m not the Trixie from those tapes,_ she doesn’t say, because she feels sure she’ll cry.

Trixie pauses, waits for Katya to say something, to jump in, to deny everything she’s just said. It doesn’t come.

Trixie takes a deep breath, urges her tears back in her eyes.

“So, Katya, I’ve gotta ask you. I can do this forever. I can let this be my life. Can you?”

Katya pasues. She’s staring at Trixie, open-mouthed and wide-eyed, and Trixie decides it’s a beat too long. She deserves more than a pause.

“That’s what I thought.” Then Trixie’s moving, grabbing keys and her purse and wallet and a thin jacket for the night.

“Trixie, what are you-”

By the time Katya’s spoken up, Trixie’s at the door. 

“You think long and hard about that question, Katya. And you better let me know soon because I - ” _I was falling in love you with._ “You better let me know.”

Trixie leaves the room and steps out into the hallway, lets her back hit the wall and the tears flow down before she starts moving again.

***  
The door slams in her face, and then Katya is alone.

She doesn’t know how long she just stands there, glued to the spot and frozen in time, listening to her pulse pounding in her ears. When Katya finally tries to move again, her legs feel wobbly. She moves to sit down.

Once safely on the couch, Katya wants to think, _Damn that fucking coffee._ But she can’t - she can’t blame it on the coffee. This was all her.

Katya tries to breathe slowly as she takes in the horror of the person you love most laying out all your worst fears, and it’s a catalogue of how you’ve hurt them. She’d been trying so hard, and for a bit, it was paying off. It had felt like they were working toward something. It turns out, Katya had thought they were working toward a new normal. But it looks like she was working toward an old normal.

And that wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair to Trixie or Katya or anyone around them.

So Katya finds herself alone with her thoughts, and alone with Trixie’s question: is this enough for her?

Katya’s eyes fall on the clock and she realizes she’s going to be late for work if she doesn’t get moving. As she gets ready, she feels a bit like she’s wearing someone else’s skin - like this is another woman’s life, not hers, and if she makes it through long enough, she can get back to the place that’s hers. If she’s honest, maybe that’s how she’s felt for awhile now.

Katya goes through her day like a ghost. She gives noncommittal answers to the people around her, takes her lunch when she’s supposed to, goes through the motions of running this business. Trixie’s question from that morning haunts her thoughts, picking at the back of her brain like a bug, determined to crawl into her skull.

She knows that Ginger and Alaska notice something’s wrong, and she keeps expecting one of them to corner her with questions, or maybe even a lecture. But Katya makes it through the day with neither, and she starts to wonder if her friends aren’t questioning her because they already knew what’s wrong, aren’t lecturing her because they know they can’t help.

Katya comes home exhausted to an empty apartment, and she feels a gaping hollow settle in her chest. She thinks that it reminds her of the days when Trixie was in the hospital, and the thought is enough to choke a sob from her chest. 

Katya makes it to the couch before she collapses, where she puts her face in her hands and lets out as many sobs as her body can handle. All she can see is memories of Trixie unconscious in that hospital bed, all she can hear are the doctors and nurses gently advising her, _maybe it’s time to give up._

_Maybe it’s time to let go._

Trixie’s question, ‘Is this enough for you?’ rings in her ears, and she decides she knows the answer. She always has.

She needs to find Trixie.

***  
Trixie’s curled up on one side of Kim’s couch, Kim shoving popcorn into her mouth at the other end.

The question of where she would go - or, rather, _who_ she would go to - had been an extremely important decision. Everyone here was a friend of hers and Katya’s, or a friend she learned she had. Everyone had been there for Katya while Trixie was in the hospital, everyone had known the Old Trixie, everyone had been a friend she had to learn.

Kim fit into all these categories, but she seemed to do so the least. From the first time they met, or re-met, Trixie could tell that Kim was more her friend than she was Katya’s. At the time, Trixie had felt bad for revelling in that, but at the moment, it felt nice. Kim had also been the easiest person to talk to - she didn’t tiptoe around Trixie like she was a flight-risk, or try to jog her memory. Kim talks to her like she talks to everyone else: with a blunt, slightly offensive sense of humor. But Trixie’s always felt like she was in on the joke.

When Trixie showed up on her doorstep a few days ago, she knew she wouldn’t be able to hide the fact that she’d been crying, and she knew that Kim would be able to see through a fib. So Trixie didn’t try to lie to her, but she gave an abridged version of the truth. Kim knows that Trixie and Katya are fighting, but she doesn’t know the subject of the fight, or the severity of it. As time goes on, Trixie’s left wondering about the latter herself.

Originally, she’d promised herself three days. Or, rather, she promised Katya three days. After that, if Katya hadn’t come to a decision, Trixie would ask one of her, and move forward from there. But as that third day draws to a close and Trixie’s still gotten no word from Katya, she’s beginning to feel her heart sink lower into her stomach, and she’s giving the woman new deadlines.

_Maybe five days is a good amount of time._

But Trixie knows there’s no doubt that if five days pops up with no word from Katya, she’ll give the woman seven, and then maybe two weeks would be better, and she doesn’t know when it’ll stop.

Because what is Trixie asking for, exactly? A divorce? An open relationship? An unhappy one? She’d felt so confident storming out of that apartment a few days ago, and now she just feels nauseous. If Katya decides she doesn’t want to be married to her anymore, she doesn’t know what she’ll do.

In fact, she doesn’t know what to do if Katya asks for any of the options Trixie’s drawn up in her head. She knows she’s too jealous to be in any sort of open relationship. The idea of Katya crawling into bed with her after having…. _relations_ with someone else stirs bile in her throat. But the idea of going on like they have been makes Trixie feel just as sick. She hates this, how much her happiness depends on a decision that isn’t even hers. 

Trixie’s drawn out scenarios in her head. She decides she’d stay with Kim for awhile until she could get her own place. She’d probably have to move farther out of Manhattan and probably get a roommate. She’d also probably have to work another job to at least finish her next year at school. And then, maybe after she’s gotten her degree, she can start working somewhere that pays more and quit the makeup counter. And then she’ll...what? Start dating again? The thought makes her shudder.

She realizes that logistically, she’d be fine. She’d have some rough patches, but she’d get back on her feet, especially with the help of people like Kim. But when she thinks of love, she feels a gaping hole start to form in her chest. A thought has struck her that she can’t shake out: what if Trixie - this version of Trixie - isn’t Katya’s one and only, but Katya’s still hers?

She doesn’t know how to answer that question, so she doesn’t linger on it. Instead, she settles her gaze on the Julia Roberts movie in front of her. It takes her several moments to register that they’re watching Pretty Woman. 

_Katya loves Julia Roberts,_ Trixie recalls. She isn’t sure where the knowledge comes from, but she’s sure it’s true. Every now and then she gets little tidbits from the Old Trixie creep into her consciousness, but it’s never a lot. Never enough.

“Trixie?”

“Huh?”

Kim’s just made another comment that Trixie hasn’t caught. It’s happened a few times now, and Trixie’ been so in her own head that she hasn’t picked up on any of them

“I _said_ , ‘God, isn’t that dress so fucking gorgeous?’”

“Oh. Uhh, which dress?”

“It’s gone now, it was in another scene.”

“Oh, shit, sorry Kim. I guess I’m not the best movie companion tonight.”

Kim sighs. 

“Listen. I’m not really an interventionist, much less a marriage counselor, but I really think you should go talk to Katya. And that’s not me trying to force you off my couch, either - you’re welcome as long as you need. Just…” her voice trails off.

“No, I know,” Trixie says. Not because she has any plan on talking to Katya, but because that’s what you’re supposed to say. 

“What did you guys even fight about? Not to pry, but I mean it’s been three days-”

Kim is cut off by the sound of the buzzer on her apartment going off. Trixie feels herself let out a breath of relief.

“Fuck. Listen, this conversation isn’t over, Tracy.” 

Trixie nods, knows that Kim is serious. She knows the conversation isn’t over - but at least she has a bit more time. 

Kim goes up to look through the peephole at whoever is standing on the other side. Trixie waits for her to say something, but there’s just silence.

“Uhh, Trixie?”

“Hm?”

“Katya’s here.”

***

Katya grips her purse nervously and tugs on her hair. She’d been able to track down Trixie a few days ago (even after she turned off her location on Find My Friends) but it had taken her this long to get everything in order. She hopes Trixie will forgive her for it - if Trixie can forgive her at all. That is, if Kim even lets her in the door.

Katya’s starting to have her doubts, and debates ringing the doorbell again against just leaving when the door swings open, and then Kim is feet in front of her.

“Hey, Kim, I-”

“Trixie?” Kim calls. She doesn’t move her gaze from Katya’s face. “Do you want me to say you aren’t home?”

Ouch.

“No, Kim, it’s fine. Let her in.”

Katya’s heart jumps at the sound of Trixie’s voice, small and quiet, tucked away in the other room.

“Okay,” Kim says. “I’m gonna go for a walk, Trixie. I’m gonna keep my ringer on high, so let me know if you need anything. At all.” Kim shoves past Katya, and Katya’s left wondering just how much Trixie told her. From the way Kim’s acting, Katya’s guesses it’s a lot. Either that, or Trixie’s just found herself a friend who’s fiercely loyal.

Kim all but shoves past her, and then Katya’s inside. She closes the door behind her and sees Trixie curled up on the couch.

Katya feels something explode in her chest at the sight of her. It’s only been three days, but Trixie just has that level of power over her. Katya feels her throat close up, and then there are tears in her eyes.

“Hi,” Katya says, and then winces. Whether it’s at the patheticness of her own voice or the patheticness of the greeting, she’s not sure.

Either way, Trixie seems unaffected. She fiddles with her fingers and avoids Katya’s gaze. It blows a hole in Katya’s heart.

“Can I sit?” Katya chances, moving closer to the couch. Trixie shrugs, still avoiding her eyes, and Katya’s brought back to the way Trixie looked after just having woken up in the hospital bed: small, scared, and _so,_ so young.

Katya sits beside a curled up Trixie, who’s still looking down at her hands.

“Trixie, can you look at me, please?” Katya almost wishes she hadn’t asked. When Trixie looks up at her, her eyes are red and teary, like she’s already decided that Katya’s going to hurt her. It unfurls something deep inside Katya’s bones.

“Okay. I’ve thought about what I wanna say to you nonstop over these past few days, and every time I rehearse something in my head it just...falls apart.” Trixie tips her head back like she’s trying to keep tears from falling. Katya wants to reach out and touch her, to comfort her so, so bad. But she knows it’s not her place, not right now. She takes another breath and continues.

“I don’t know how to say this all pretty and sweet, so I’ll just say it. Yes.”

Trixie’s still, like she’s waiting for more.

“What?”

“Three days ago, you asked me if this could be my forever. And my answer’s yes.”

Trixie’s face twists up, and the tears start flowing my freely. Katya feels wet heat gather in her eyes, too.

“Katya.” Her voice is small and cracked.

“Shh, shh, it’s okay Trixie.” Katya inches closer, cups Trixie’s face in her hands so that she can wipe away the tears with her thumbs. “It’s okay, it’s okay…”

“But -” Trixie chokes a little, struggling to wipe her eyes. Katya notices that her body language is still tense, her hands are still pulled up tight, and Trixie’s not leaning into her. “But those videos....in those videos you looks so in love, so happy.”

“Trix, hon, what are you talking about, what videos?”

“I found a bunch of home videos under the bed from when we were...in college, I think? I don’t know - we were young and happy and - Katya you looked at the Trixie on that screen like….” Trixie takes a breath. “You two moved like you were born to be together, like you spoke a secret language. And Katya, I’m not her. I don’t have what she has and I probably never will.”

“Trixie,” Katya lets out a sigh. _So that’s what brought this on,_ she realizes. “Okay, baby, I need you to listen to me. Those girls on the screen? They were _young._ We didn’t know each other yet. We were starting to, sure, but - we didn’t know each other. Not like we came to over the years. Not like we do now.” She takes Trixie’s hands in hers, looks her in the eye and wills her to listen. “What you saw on that screen? It was puppy love. It was the beginning of something special and big and _so fucking hard,_ but so, _so_ much better. That was us in the honeymoon stage, babe. There’s a reason so many people don’t get out of that - it’s so fun and easy without any of the hard stuff. But guess what, Barbara? Getting through the hard stuff is what makes it so _good._

“I think - and I don’t know why this didn’t click before - but I think that waking up and getting plopped down in the middle of a relationship where you’ve skipped the honeymoon phase gone straight to the part where you’re supposed to _know_ each other - the part that takes years to get to - must have been more disorienting than I can wrap my head around.”

“But I _didn’t_ skip the honeymoon stage,” Trixie says, tightening her grip on Katya’s hands. She’s smiling. “You created that for me, all over again.” Katya ducks her head and smiles, lets out a low laugh. “It’s true!” Trixie tips Katya’s chin up so that they’re eye-to-eye. “You took me out on dates and brought me flowers and surprised me at work. You were so sweet to me, Katya, and you did the hard part all over again so that we could get to the good part. Nobody else could do that.”

Katya lets out a sigh. Her throat is so tight she thinks it might snap, and it’s all she can do to keep her eyes open through all the tears.

“‘Cos I love you, Trix.” 

Something passes over Trixie’s face. It’s blank and then confused and then happy, and then they’re crying together.

“Of course I love you, Trixie - I never fucking stopped. Even when you were in that hospital with no idea who I was. I loved you then and I loved you when you yelled at me in the kitchen and I love you now, while your fucking mascara runs and you’re hiding from me on Kim’s couch.”

“Fuck,” Trixie lets out a laugh, conscientiously swiping some of the runny mascara off her cheeks. When she speaks next, her voice is quiet and her eyes are still. “I love you too, Katya.” They move forward at the same time and for a few moments, just rest their foreheads against one another. “I love you so fucking much. And I know it doesn’t seem like it but….I think we are really so lucky.”

“We are, of course we are, baby, of course we are.” Katya places a hand on the back of Trixie’s neck and kisses her. It’s wet and sloppy - they’re both still kind of crying. But it feels so good to be this close to Trixie again, she’ll take it, take anything she can get.

“Oh _shit _,” Katya says, bouncing apart from Trixie.__

__“Katya, what the f-”_ _

__“Do you wanna renew our vows?”_ _

__Trixie’s eyes go wide and her mouth opens. She’s shaking her head like she’s caught off balance - and of course she is, fuck._ _

__“Sorry, shit - I should slow down. Sorry. Fuck. Okay so I knew that I still wanted to stay married to you, like, hours after you left.”_ _

__“Katya…”_ _

__“Yeah, I know, duh - but the reason I took three days to come find you is I was trying to get together some logistics - like, call some places to see if they’re available and look into dress shops and shit like that, so that I wasn’t coming to you empty-handed. Is that cool? Is that something you wanna do - oh, shit - oh, Trixie, I’m sorry-”_ _

__Trixie’s crying again, face in her hands and little sobs wracking her chest. Katya rubs her hand on her back._ _

__“I’m sorry, was it too soon?”_ _

__“Katya, you fucking psychopath.”_ _

__“So I’ll….take that as a yes?”_ _

__“Of course I wanna renew my vows with you, Crazy!”_ _

__Katya bounces up and down, feels a light run through her. She takes Trixie’s hands in hers and squeezes them until Trixie looks up again._ _

__“So, we’re gonna do this?” Katya smiles at her expectantly. Trixie’s eyes turn soft and warm._ _

__“Yeah,” she says. “We’re gonna do this, Katya.”_ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- I'm on tungle @katyasghoulfriend  
> \- thank u to my editor and gf, T


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who is still following this story and who has waited so patiently for the ending to be posted. If you're following me on tumblr you'll already know this but I wrote the ending to SATC awhile back now actually, but didn't feel like I was in a good enough place to post it. I've felt that way for awhile now, but I finally think I'm ready.
> 
> And now, for the sappy emotional stuff:
> 
> I don't know how to accurately and fully articulate how meaningful this story and these characters have been to me, but I will try. This is the first and only time I have published my works on a public platform, and the responses to have been overwhelmingly fulfilling. Writing was always something I loved, and it has always been my dream to write something that could leave an impact. I think I lost touch with that dream for a long while, but this story has helped me find it again.
> 
> Thank you to everyone who has read and loved this story, especially those of you who have reached out to me or even left a comment to let me know you enjoyed this.
> 
> I hope the ending is everything you could have asked for, or at least alright. There'll be an epilogue posted right after.

Time rolls on and Trixie and Katya find a routine.

Trixie finishes her first year of community college, acing her classes with flying colors.

“I should hope I know my shit, I already _fucking learned it!_ ” she tells Katya. Katya kisses her and she feels warm, likes that they’re both comfortable joking about it - about _the accident,_ which Katya is sure will one day just become a blip on their timeline, not much different from the two of them getting in a fight or one of them losing a job. As time goes on, Katya becomes increasingly sure that this is something they’ll move on from. The thought doesn’t scare her like it used to. 

As summer approaches, Trixie picks up her guitar again. All it really takes is a few online videos for Trixie’s muscle memory to kick in, and she goes from hesitant chords to fully-realized melodies in a matter of days. It’s so pleasant to have the sound of Trixie’s music filling their home again, but Katya thinks it’s even better to see the surprised wonder cross Trixie’s face. She’s so proud of herself and she’s so pleased. Katya thinks she could cry. 

“After I finish this year of school, I might even be able to go back to my old job,” Trixie says one evening. “I could phone up my old clients and...see where that goes?” 

Katya feels a smile spread over her face. “Yeah, baby, I think that’s a great idea.”

Trixie’s settling and she’s good. And Katya? She’s happier than ever.

It had taken her awhile to realize just how how much the stress of Trixie’s accident and subsequent recovery halted the progress Katya had been making at the center. Now that she’s worrying about neither, Katya goes full force, drawing up plans to add a relief wing that doubles as a homeless shelter. She’s had to jump through hoops financially, not to mention all the work of getting the permits, but the wing is underway, and she’s excited. 

“You’ve certainly pulled it together,” Alaska comments one day. Katya’s taken a break from her work to watch over some of the construction. She’s got her hands on her hips and a smile on her face.

“I’m a woman on a mission, Lasky!” Katya squeezes her shoulder as she walks past Alaska to get back to work. There’s more than a bit of a spring in her step.

A new development in their lives actually involves Alaska, and the girl she’d brought to Katya’s birthday party all those months ago. Alaska and Willam are officially together, and they have frequent dinner parties - that are a lot less dinner and a lot more party - at Willam’s rooftop apartment.

Katya gets to rediscover the joy of people meeting them as _Trixie and Katya_ , of making friends as a couple. Meanwhile, Trixie gets to meet people who know her as Trixie: the musician and makeup artist, rather than Trixie: the ex-music producer who suffered a horrific accident and lost ten years’ worth of memories. These new people in their lives don’t know about the accident and they don’t ask. Katya can see how much joy this brings Trixie, and she thinks that she feels it herself, too. 

Meanwhile, the sex just keeps getting better and better. Trixie quickly learns Katya’s body again, and she enjoys having hers explored. 

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Katya says one night, hovering over Trixie’s naked body, tracing the little pink nipples on her heavy breasts. Trixie smiles.

“Only for you, Kat.”

That always gets Katya. Over the years, she’s never really gotten over the fact that Trixie - D-cup, midwestern belle, blond bombshell _Beatrice fucking Mattel_ \- is hers to touch and hers only. Katya sucks a nipples into her mouth and plays with the other, revelling in the gasp that she coaxes out of the woman beneath her.

“ _Katya_ ,” she breathes. “Katya, _please_.”

Katya knows what Trixie’s asking for without her having to say it. She slides two fingers into Trixie easily, watches Trixie gasp beneath her. “Oh baby that was so easy, you’re so wet.” Trixie whines, and Katya smiles. She knows how much Trixie likes to be teased. Katya finally works her way up to three, then four fingers, lazily pumping in and out of her wife.

“I love you so much,” Trixie gasps out. Her head is thrown back and her fingers are curled into the sheets. Katya’s been curling up her fingers as she pumps them out, taking care to press on Trixie’s g-spot each and every time. 

“I love you too, baby,” Katya says. She presses a little kiss to the inside of Trixie’s thigh. “Do you want more?” That was code for, _Do you want me to get the strap?_

“No, Kat, no.” Trixie grabs Katya’s wrist. The motion says, _stay here, please._ “I just want _you_ , Kat.” Language like that always gets to Katya, and now is no exception. A deep warmth travels down her stomach and lands right on her cunt. 

“Well alright, then.” Katya kisses Trixie’s thigh again, thinks, _that’s the sweetest we’re about to get for awhile._ “Let’s get you nice and fucked, baby.”

Katya never knows whether to keep her eyes on her fingers as they plunge in and out of Trixie’s pussy, or Trixie’s massive breasts, bouncing back and forth with the effort. They’re both so good and Katya is so lucky.

When they’re done, Trixie arches her back and lets out a high pitched whine that only intensifies when Katya licks her fingers clean.

“Prettiest girl in the world,” Katya mumbles against Trixie’s lips. “Love you so much.”

“I only wanna do this with you,” Trixie says. It’s probably one of Katya’s favorite sentences. “Only with you, forever.” Katya tangles their fingers together and nods.

“Forever.”

***

The year anniversary of Trixie’s accident comes and goes, and Trixie’s been out of the hospital for about six months. Katya thinks that just a short while ago, a time stamp like that would have scared her. It’s been six months and Trixie still shows no signs of getting her memories back.

Katya wakes up one morning and thinks that maybe that fact should worry her. She thinks about it for all of two seconds before she’s rolling over to be face-to-face with the woman she loves. Trixie blinks her eyes open and Katya peppers her freckles with little kisses.

“Katya…” Trixie’s voice is sleepy, and she’s still in the beginning stages of being awake. Katya just shushes her, tugs a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Go back to sleep, baby.” Trixie hums but scoots closer to Katya, who obliges, wrapping an arm around Trixie’s torso so she can snuggle into Katya’s chest. Katya’s wide awake but she’s more than happy to stay there, carding her fingers through Trixie’s hair as she feels the woman nod off once again.

She can’t remember what she’d been thinking about moments ago.

***   
Summer comes and goes and Trixie’s back in school again. The new wing at the center has been thriving, as members of the community come in and out regularly. Katya gets to know a few of them by name. And she knows she shouldn’t, but sometimes she presses a twenty dollar bill into the hand of a woman she’s spent a few hours talking to, or a young boy who’s come in every day for the past few weeks.

Katya’s gotten up a little earlier than Trixie and she’s making them coffee and breakfast. She could have sworn Trixie was supposed to have gotten up earlier for a class, but she’s not sure, and she decides she’d rather let the woman sleep. She can be late for one class.

Speak of the devil, a few moments later Trixie’s scrambling out of the bedroom with wet hair and half-done makeup.

“Morning, sweetheart,” Katya says, smiling to herself more than anything.

“Hey.” Trixie gulps down some coffee while tugging on her coat. “I love you _so _much but I am _so _late.”____

____Katya chuckles and tosses a cliff bar at Trixie, who catches it and throws a grateful look in Katya’s direction._ _ _ _

____“See you tonight, baby!” Katya calls after her._ _ _ _

____She listens to Trixie make it about halfway down the stairs before her footsteps audibly bang to a stop. Katya frowns and stops what she’s doing._ _ _ _

____“ _Holy shit!_ ” she hears Trixie’s muffled, albeit loud voice through the door and down the stairs. “ _Holy fuck_ ,” she says. And then, softer, “Oh my God….”_ _ _ _

____“Trixie?” Katya calls. Her heart begins to race, and the first thought is, _Please, God, let her be okay - I don’t think I could take it if she’s not.__ _ _ _

____Katya doesn’t wait for an answer before she’s racing to the door and throwing it open. Trixie’s standing hunched over at the first landing of the stairs._ _ _ _

____“Trixie?” Katya calls again._ _ _ _

____Trixie turns around to look up at Katya. She’s fine, thank God - or at least, she doesn’t look hurt. But she’s got tears streaming down her cheeks and there’s something about the way she’s looking at Katya. It’s a little unnerving. Katya’s about to call for her wife again, but then she doesn’t have to. When Trixie opens her mouth, Katya’s heart stops._ _ _ _

____“Katya,” she says, with more clarity than Katya’s heart in over a year. “It’s me.”_ _ _ _

____Katya’s heart stops._ _ _ _

____She’s holding her breath, and finds the words can’t get to her mouth. All she can manage is a raise of her eyebrows, which has got Trixie nodding, a smile forming beneath her tears._ _ _ _

____And then Katya is racing down the staircase, open door and active stove long forgotten. She’s got Trixie by the shoulders, who’s just smiling and crying and smiling and crying._ _ _ _

____“Katya, I-”_ _ _ _

____“The name of the song. The name of the song at the date party when I first took you back to my dorm-”_ _ _ _

____“Waterloo,” Trixie chirps, without a moment’s hesitation. “It was the same song you tried to propose to me with.”_ _ _ _

____“What was the name of the girl whose lakehouse we would go to over the summer?”_ _ _ _

____“Ginger.”_ _ _ _

____“The class we first met in-”_ _ _ _

____“Was a theater class, run by Professor Lombardi. You were wearing a short plaid skirt and a tight red top. You used to do your makeup and hair, just for that class, just to impress me. We have gone on exactly three vacations in our life: Venice, where you proposed, Los Angeles, when you brother wanted to take his kids to Disneyland, and England, when Sasha and Shea got married. You had a pet lizard growing up named Harry. We have a cactus and lily statue in the bathroom because of that song I wrote you when we got out of college. We’ve had sex at your office in the center two and a half times, the third time we had to stop because Alaska walked in on us-”_ _ _ _

____“ _Trixie._ ” Katya throws her arms around the woman’s neck, buries her face in it. And Trixie’s holding her so, so tight - they’re both shaking, just a little bit, vibrating in tandem._ _ _ _

____Katya steps back to hold her wife at shoulder’s length. They’re both crying, but Katya thinks that even through the redness, those are the prettiest blue eyes she’s ever seen. Those are eyes that she knows, that know her. Katya feels like she’s in a dream._ _ _ _

____“I’m not dreaming right - fuck.”_ _ _ _

____“No!” Trixie scream-laughs back at her. “It’s me, Linda - I’m back.”_ _ _ _

____“Trixie….” Katya kisses her, plunges a year’s worth of anguish into her lips. Trixie swallows it, holds Katya so tight that Katya is tempted melt into her, let her legs give out._ _ _ _

____Katya stops kissing Trixie so that she can hold her again, placing her arms tightly around her shoulders._ _ _ _

____“I missed you so much,” she says, her voice trembling next to Trixie’s ear._ _ _ _

____“I know, baby, I know. It’s okay, Kat, I’m here.” They hold each other for a few moments longer before Katya holds Trixie at arm’s length once again. She looks at Trixie and giggles - she’s so fucking happy, she wants to scream._ _ _ _

____As if reading her mind, Trixie says, “Bed?”_ _ _ _

____“ _God_ , yes - bed, now.”_ _ _ _

____Katya grasps Trixie’s hand in her own as they race up the staircase, giggling like teenagers as they stumble into their apartment._ _ _ _

____Katya has Trixie naked and spread out in their bed in a matter of minutes, kissing her slowly and carefully. And Trixie’s back to biting her lip the way Katya likes, sucking on her tongue and letting her mouth open for her woman. It’s so familiar and so sweet, Katya could cry with it._ _ _ _

____They spend the morning making love, and Trixie eats Katya out so perfectly Katya could melt into the bed. Katya’s having sex with a woman who’s known her body for ten years, who knows to suck on her clit then blow, kissing her inner thighs until Katya is shaking, muttering what a fucking tease Trixie is under her breath. When they’re done, they just lie in bed together, and Katya takes in every inch of the woman in front of her._ _ _ _

____Trixie pulls a thin blanket over their bodies and Katya reaches forward to stroke a thumb over her cheek._ _ _ _

____“Hi,” Katya says._ _ _ _

____“Hi.” Trixie mirrors her own smile, and Katya feels warmth blossom in her chest._ _ _ _

____“I missed you so much.” Katya feels like her throat has diminished to the size of a straw, and there are cracks in her words._ _ _ _

____“I know, Kat, I know. I’m so sorry.” Trixie takes Katya’s hand and holds it against her own cheek. “You were so good to me...you’ve been so patient. Not everyone could do what you did.”_ _ _ _

____“I’ve got a girl who’s worth it, mama.” Katya smiles, but she feels the weakness in her own voice. She shakes her head. “What happened to you on that staircase? You hit your head or something?”_ _ _ _

____Trixie lets out a sigh and furrows her brow. Katya thinks she looks like she’s searching inside of herself, like she’s trying to find a memory that’s hiding in the back of her brain._ _ _ _

____“I don’t know,” she says after a while. “I mean, I remember thinking that there was something so familiar about this morning...” Katya hums, urging her on. “And I was really lost in my thoughts like - like this morning made me remember something but I couldn’t even remember what it was I was remembering-” Trixie cuts herself off, looks up at Katya with eyes that say, _Do I sound crazy?__ _ _ _

____Katya shakes her head. “It’s okay, baby, go on.”_ _ _ _

____“And then I just…I was focusing so hard on trying to remember what it was that I was remembering that I tripped on the last step. I lost my balance and felt kind of shaken, and then when I got back on my feet I just...remembered.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie looks up at her again and Katya feels a smile spread across her face as warm tears gather in her eyes._ _ _ _

____“It’s a miracle.” Katya leans forward, gives Trixie the lightest of kisses on her pink, plump lips. “ _You’re_ a miracle.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie’s quiet for a few moments as she directs her attention to a strand of Katya’s hair splayed out on the pillow between them. Trixie loops the golden lock around her finger._ _ _ _

____“Katya?”_ _ _ _

____“Hm?”_ _ _ _

____“Did you mean it?” Trixie looks up at her, and her gaze is almost shy. “Could you have gone forever like that, even if I never got my memories back?”_ _ _ _

____“Trixie,” Katya breathes out. She traces some of the freckles on Trixie’s face with her finger. “You know, at the beginning it was hard. You used to look at me like I was a gila monster or something.” Katya chuckles. “But as time went on it got easier and I just - I fell in love again. It’s always been you, and you were just...you. Still. So yeah, baby, I would’ve been fine.”_ _ _ _

____Tears are pooling in Trixie’s eyes, and Katya’s quick to swipe them away._ _ _ _

____“Oh, baby,” Katya purrs._ _ _ _

____“I’m just so lucky,” Trixie chokes out. “I mean, you took me on _dates_ , for fuck’s sake! You taught me to _fuck_ again, Kat” Katya lets out a booming laugh. “That night we ditched the fancy restaurant to go to the 7/11…”_ _ _ _

____“The absolute pinnacle of romance.”_ _ _ _

____“I love you so fucking much.”_ _ _ _

____Katya scoots forward and wraps Trixie in her arms, thinks that the motion is just as comforting to her as it is Trixie._ _ _ _

____***_ _ _ _

____Katya calls in sick to work and Trixie plays hookie. As tempting as it is to stay in bed all day, Katya finds that she wants to get out. Trixie gleefully tells her, “I’ll lead the way” as she marches out the door, Katya’s hand in her own. Katya suspects it’s jut to get her to smile. It works._ _ _ _

____They go to their favorite restaurants and parks and shops, and Katya lets Trixie shower her with stories of, “remember when we….” “oh this is the place where we….” Katya knows that Trixie is indulging her. She doesn’t mind at all._ _ _ _

____After lunch, they wander around until they hit Central Park, where they find an empty table in the middle of a field of grass._ _ _ _

____“Wanna sit for a little?” Katya says. Trixie nods, and then they’re across from each other. Katya reaches across the table to thread her fingers through Trixie’s._ _ _ _

____For a few moments they’re silent, just soaking in the other’s presence. It’s quiet and comfortable, but eventually Katya gets itchy. She feels like she has a thousand things to say, but she can’t think of a single one._ _ _ _

____“I know,” Trixie startles her out of her thoughts._ _ _ _

____“What’s that, Dolly?”_ _ _ _

____“I said, I know,” Trixie tell her. She holds Katya’s gaze firmly, and Katya thinks that the transformation is uncanny. Yesterday, as lovely and good as Trixie was, she was still a young girl. Today, she’s got the weight of an extra decade on her, dripping off everything from her shoulders to her eyelashes, present in the way she sits to the way she lets out a breath. “It’s like - what do we say to each other? ‘Welp - that happened. Weird.’”_ _ _ _

____Katya snorts, and Trixie gives her hand a little squeeze._ _ _ _

____“Can I say something?” Katya asks. “Something that’s gonna sound a little supid and a lot of crazy?”_ _ _ _

____“I think I know what it is,” Trixie answers._ _ _ _

____“Oh really, miss thing? Try me.” Katya smiles._ _ _ _

____Trixie takes a breath, searching Katya’s eyes. Katya just nods. _It’s okay.__ _ _ _

____“I think that we needed this.” Katya feels so relieved to hear it out of the other woman’s mouth, it’s like a weight falls off her shoulders._ _ _ _

____“Yes! It’s like - well, okay - sorry, you go on.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie laughs. “Before, you know, the accident - we were still in love. Very much so. But we were...tired. Distant. I don’t know - we weren’t _us,_ the way we used to be. And part of me thought that it was just something that comes with marriage and age - I mean, we’ve been together ten fucking years, Linda. But...I don’t know. It didn’t feel right. I kept expecting us to wake up one day and things would be back to the way we knew them - like there was just gonna be some spark that would make us _us_ again. But it never happened. Does that make sense? Am I making any sense?”_ _ _ _

____“No, I know, baby. I felt it, too. And I never really knew how to talk about it, either. Because nothing was _wrong_ \- we weren’t fighting, no one was cheating or lying or any of the things that you’d….go to counseling for, I suppose. But it still didn’t feel right.” Katya lets out a sigh and Trixie squeezes her hand again. “I missed you way before the accident even happened, baby. And you were right there.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie looks down at their intertwined fingers and places another hand over them._ _ _ _

____“I think I’m a lot to blame,” she says. “I was working so much and always coming home too late or too tired to be much of a companion.”_ _ _ _

____“No, honey, don’t do that - we were both to blame. We both could have been trying harder. This is what happens as time goes on, you know? And we both love our jobs, that’s not something either of us should have been sacrificing.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie sighs again._ _ _ _

____“Fuck,” she says. “I gotta get my job back.” Katya giggles._ _ _ _

____“I don’t think that’s gonna be a problem, sweetheart. You’re the best in the biz.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, I don’t know about that, but - wait, holy shit, Kat - all those fucking medical bills.”_ _ _ _

____“Huh?”_ _ _ _

____“Oh my God, I never said - when I found all those home videos under the bed, I also found a fat stack of receipts from the hospital, mama.” Trixie scoots forward on her seat. Her eyes and tone turn dead serious. “Katya….six months?”_ _ _ _

____Katya shakes her head. It’s been so long since she’s thought about that time in her life, which was really so much more recent than she’d care to admit._ _ _ _

____“Honey. How could I not. What would you have done.” Trixie’s got tears in her eyes again, and she pulls Katya’s hands to her face, kisses each knuckle._ _ _ _

____“You are…. You are something, Katya Zamolodchikova. How’d you pay it all off?”_ _ _ _

____Katya shrugs. “I saved up. Was careful with our money. My parents helped a lot, and Alaska gave us a little bit.”_ _ _ _

____“Kat. It was a lot of money.”_ _ _ _

____“We’ve also got fucking stellar insurance, mama.” Trixie shakes her head._ _ _ _

____“How the fuck did I get so lucky.”_ _ _ _

____“Good question, Tracy.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie leans forward on the bench to kiss her, and Katya happily obliges._ _ _ _

____“So,” Trixie says. “Stupid question but. How do we make sure it doesn’t happen again?”_ _ _ _

____“Well, you could start by looking both ways when you cross the fucking street, girly.”_ _ _ _

____“Kat. No.” Trixie tilts her head and Katya knows this isn’t the time for jokes. “You know what I mean.”_ _ _ _

____“How do we make sure we don’t fall into the people we were again? How do we keep the energy up? How do we keep the marriage alive?”_ _ _ _

____Trixie gives a small smile. “Yeah. Something like that.”_ _ _ _

____“I don’t know.” Katya’s voice is lower and breathier than she had expected. Her skin feels dry and cool. “I wish I did, but I don’t.”_ _ _ _

____“Yeah. Me neither.”_ _ _ _

____They’re silent for a few moments. Trixie swipes her thumb up and down the back of Katya’s hand, and Katya listens to the birds chirping in the park. The next bench over, a couple looks like they’re on a first date. On the trail beside them, an older lady pads along on her own. Katya shudders. She thinks she doesn’t want to grow old in New York City._ _ _ _

____“Well I know one thing for sure,” Katya offers. Trixie looks up from their intertwined hands, eyebrows raised. “Everything happens for a reason. The universe has got a big fat plan and we’re just little dustmites on her map, but we’re dustmites with a direction.”_ _ _ _

____“Kat,” Trixie says. “English, please.”_ _ _ _

____“You said earlier, this whole shabang was supposed to happen. I agree. Maybe this was our wakeup call. I think we’re luckier than most, Trix. Lucky to have found each other so early in life, much less at all, and I think we were getting too comfortable with that. The universe….I think it snapped that away from us from us for a hot minute to say, ‘See? Look how lucky you are - now start acting like it.’”_ _ _ _

____Trixie nods. “We got a second chance.”_ _ _ _

____“We’re _getting_ a second chance.”_ _ _ _

____“Not everyone is so lucky.”  
Katya nods and kisses her fingers._ _ _ _

____“What’s in that little noggin of yours, mama?” Katya frowns, and pretends to knock on Trixie’s skull. “Where do you wanna go from here?”_ _ _ _

____Trixie looks down and blushes a little. Katya wants to kiss the red off her cheeks._ _ _ _

____“Well. I think the vow renewal will be a cool place to start.” Trixie’s trying to contain her smile, and Katya wishes she wouldn’t - wants her to let the thing envelope her face._ _ _ _

____“Oh _shit,_ that’s right, Mary.” Katya slaps her hand down on Trixie’s, and the woman across from her barks out a laugh._ _ _ _

____“You are _crazy_ , Katya,” Trixie says. “To pull all that together - you must really love me.” Trixie moves her shoulders and starts to act all demure, and Katya wants to jump across the bench, take her right here in the middle of central park for every tentative couple and 20something-asshole-in-a-suit to see._ _ _ _

____She settles for kissing each of Trixie’s wrists, then kissing every inch of her she can reach, until Trixie’s scream-laughing at her to cut it out. A couple people are staring, and Katya thinks, _good._ She likes when people notice her woman, when that fucking banshee laugh draws in stares._ _ _ _

____Katya finally stops and takes a second to look at her wife, flushed and excited from laughing so hard._ _ _ _

____“That’ll be really nice, Trix.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie smiles._ _ _ _

____“I want Bob to do the ceremony.”_ _ _ _

____“Well, duh.”_ _ _ _

____“In drag.”_ _ _ _

____“Oh, Jesus Christ.”_ _ _ _

____Trixie scream-laughs as Katya shakes her head._ _ _ _

____They spend a good chunk of the afternoon sitting in that park, talking up ideas for the ceremony, realistic and far-fetched. At one point, Katya jokes about inviting Dolly Parton - “It can’t hurt to reach out!” - and Trixie nearly faints, to Katya’s delight. She thinks that she’s so happy, so lucky to have the woman in front of her._ _ _ _

____***  
When they get home, the sun has gone down, and they decide that they’ll leave off all the phonecalls for tomorrow. Katya gets exhausted when she just starts cataloguing the list: her family, Trixie’s, friends here, friends from home. When Trixie had been injured, Katya had friends handling all the calls for her. She thinks how grateful she is for them now. She also thinks that this is a group-of-friends job, not one that should be handled solely by two people. Katya finds herself praying that after the first call, the news just makes its way down the grapevine._ _ _ _

____They try to put on a movie, but they end up talking so much over it that Moonrise Kingdom becomes a lost cause. They’ve been talking until midnight when they realize they haven’t had dinner, so they postmates something expensive and stay up for another hour._ _ _ _

____When Katya starts to feel a weight on her eyelids, Trixie’s cooing at her, ushering her off into their bedroom._ _ _ _

____When they finally end up crawling into bed, Katya finds that she can’t fall asleep. She keeps staring at Trixie, telling herself, _it’s you, it’s you, it’s you.__ _ _ _

____A few hours in, Katya nearly jumps out of her skin._ _ _ _

____“Katya,” Trixie says, eyes closed and voice clear. She opens her eyes to look at the woman in front of her. “You can go to sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up, I promise.”_ _ _ _

____Katya nods, takes Trixie’s hand in hers._ _ _ _

____“Okay, baby, okay.”_ _ _ _

____And she is._ _ _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, as always, to my girlfriend. You inspired me to write and you taught me to love, and I can't thank you enough.


	10. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the very end. Thank you guys :)

Trixie blinks her eyed open as the sun starts to make its way through the window. Despite the sight, she’s cold, so she rolls over to get closer to Katya’ warmth.

Her wife sleeps so peacefully beside her, Trixie knows it’ll be bad to disturb her rest. But something in her chest is chanting, _Get up! How are you! I love you and good morning - what are you thinking? Did you dream?_ Trixie thinks that Katya’s skin vibrates, like a low hum or melody is never too far from her.

Trixie lets her sleep but reaches over to twirl the thin wedding band that rests on Katya’s finger. They both used to dutifully take the rings off before bed, resting them on their respective dressers until the day began again. But since Trixie _came back,_ as her wife likes to say, Katya’s taken to wearing hers to sleep and in the shower, like the jewelry become a part of her skin. At first Trixie had warned her against it - “Katya, you’re gonna scrape yourself in the middle of the night!” But eventually she relented, and then followed Katya in suit. She twirls her own rings, takes a second to admire how the diamond on her engagement ring glistens in the morning sun.

Katya starts to stir and Trixie’s smiling. She eagerly watches as her wife’s eyes flicker open and adjust to the morning.

“Hi sleepyhead,” Trixie says. She can hear the smile in her own voice.

“Hey, baby.” Katya grumbles but it sounds pleasant. Katya’s good at that, Trixie thinks - at making the unpleasant undeniably sweet. 

Trixie traces her fingers over Katya’s clothed breasts, swipes a thumb over the nipple bc she can.

“Naughty,” Katya sighs, only half paying attention. Their bodies are so used to each other, when they’re fucking it’s like puzzles piecing snapping into place, and when they’re not, it’s like oppositely charged magnets drawn to each other across an electric field.

Trixie trails a hand down Katya hard stomach until she reaches the hem of her boxer shorts, where she slips a hand inside and cups her fingers over Katya’s warmth. Katya lets out a small gasp, flickers her gaze over to meet Trixie’s own.

“It’s so early, baby,” Katya groans, but Trixie watches as her eyes grow hooded with want.

Trixie leans forward to give Katya’s forehead a little kiss.

“I wanna make you feel good, Katya,” she whispers, dragging a bit of her wife’s wetness over her clit, massaging it back and forth for a feel.

At the movement, Katya lets out a sharp gasp and urgently grasps Trixie’s upper arm with her hand.

“ _Trixie,_ don’t stop, please, God, don’t stop.” Katya’s eyes are closed and she buries the side of her face into the pillows beneath her. She says something in Russian, quiet and under her breath.

Trixie works two fingers into Katya, who’s clenching tight around her, while Trixie massages Katya’s clit with her thumb. Katya’s breathing has gone heavy and her cheeks are red. Trixie can barely concentrate on getting the woman off, lost in staring at how pretty her face is, how good she sounds.

“Let go, honey, let go….come on baby, come for me, please.” Katya relaxes before clenching around Trixie once more, sharp like a vibration - and then her whole body is relaxed. Katya opens her eyes and tucks a strand of Trixie’s hair behind her ear. 

“You’re so good to me,” Katya mutters. Trixie smiles and kisses her nose, thinks that Katya’s the prettiest person she’s ever seen.

“You make it easy.”

Katya has a skip in her step that morning, and Trixie’s happy to watch as her woman buzzes around the kitchen like a happy little bee. 

“...and Jinkx has been so helpful lately but we’re getting so busy with the new wing - we’re working on onboarding a few new kids and I’ve gotta interview this 20something named Adore - what a _fucking_ name! Alaska said she met her when she came in to drop off a resume and she’s got green hair! Can you believe?”

“You’d look pretty with green hair,” Trixie teases. Katya scoffs as she dollops sugar and cream into Trixie’s coffee.

“You must really love me, huh, kid?” Katya kisses her forehead and gets back to the stove.

A few minutes later and Katya’s finished off her breakfast, kissed Trixie, and she’s bouncing out the door. Trixie’s left with her coffee and her eggs and a warmth in her chest, the smell of Katya all around her.

She hasn’t checked her phone yet, but she’s sure it’ll be flooded with texts from Thorgy, like it has been nearly every day since her recovery.

Trixie had returned to work almost immediately, pulling herself out of the classes she’d been taking at the community college. And she loved it - she always had - but she was finding that the work wasn’t enough.

Trixie still firmly believes in the universe mumbo-jumbo she and Katya had spoken about in Central Park all those months ago, and she thinks that it didn’t just apply to them as a couple. Trixie had loved her job, but she was becoming complacent, and she wasn’t about to go back to complacency.

She hadn’t written a real, proper song since she was in high school, and when she picked up her guitar with the intention of composing for the first time in over a decade, it didn’t come easy. The first few verses and choruses were dragged out of her, only to be scrapped almost immediately after coming to fruition.

But then they started coming easier. Chords and melodies were flowing from Trixie’s fingers, and lyrics ended up following soon after. She’s spent many a nights hunched over her instrument on the edge of the couch, Katya curled around her like a small child. 

“It’s beautiful, baby,” Katya will say, and plant a kiss to Trixie’s shoulder. “It’s all so beautiful. I’m so proud.” Trixie thinks the calloused fingers and scrapped melodies are worth it just to see how Katya practically purs when Trixie’s got a good melody going. 

After awhile, Trixie had written, enough songs to string together what could be an album. The thought excited and scared her, and despite her years of professional work in the business, she felt almost at a lost on this front. 

Almost without thinking, she calls Thorgy when it’s first finished, just needing to offload the ideas - and some of the work - onto someone who isn’t her. 

“This could be a thing - I mean, this could be a big thing, Trix! Wow, we’re gonna do this!” Thorgy sputters out over the phone. Trixie’s cheeks turn warm and her heart starts hammering in her chest. _We’re gonna do this,_ she thinks. _We really, really are._

It’s all been nice, but her favorite part has been playing to Katya.

Sometimes it’ll be a stray melody in the living room while Katya prepares dinner, and Trixie will start to hear a little hum over the plucking of her guitar. She’ll smile to herself and feel her skin get warm, will start to tune her ears to hear more of her wife and less of her guitar.

Sometimes Trixie will be cuddled up in bed, hunched over her lyric journal, and Katya will hook her chin over Trixie’s shoulder.

“That’s good,” she’ll say sleepily. “That’s really good, hon. I think you should keep that one,” with a little peck on Trixie’s shoulder or cheek. It’s all Trixie can do not to name everything on the album “Katya’s Song, 1-12.”

Katya’s been the biggest help, inspiration and supporter of Trixie’s new projects. Sometimes Trixie takes in the way Katya looks at her and thinks that she wants to bottle the twinkle in the other woman’s eye, to keep it in a locket around her chest. 

Trixie sighs into her coffee and finishes her breakfast, then cleans up the kitchen before heading to the studio. When she looks down at her phone, she’d already got a stream of texts from her wife. They make Trixie smile and before she leaves, she takes the time to reply to them all.

***

Trixie makes sure to get home before Katya that night and gets a head-start on dinner. When her wife comes through the door, she’s belting some Russian hymn that sounds like it should be sung around a campfire. When Trixie hears it she barks out a laugh.

“ _Katya!_ ” she says. Katya ignores only gets louder as she approaches Trixie to wrap her arms around the woman and squeeze tight. “Katya, I’m at the fucked stove. Do you want your wife fucking charred?”

“Make it boiled and you’ve got a deal!” Katya plants a loud smooch on Trixie’s cheek, then moves to tend to one of the other pans.

They chat about their days and Trixie revels in listening to the woman beside her talk about her interview with this Adore character. 

“A _classic_ weirdo, Trix, we’ve gotta have her over for dinner sometime.”

“So I’m guessing you hired her?”

“Oh, on the spot.”

Trixie only offers minimal details about her day in the studio, but she’s more than happy to listen to Katya babble on and on about her own day, until they’ve finished preparing dinner and they’re sitting side by side on the couch. They munch mostly silently while a couple of episodes of Parks and Rec play in the background. When they finish eating, Katya puts her legs in Trixie’s lap and Trixie obliges, running her hands up and down Katya’s legs, rubbing the muscles that feel extra tense and enjoying the soft sighs such motions coax out of her woman.

By the third episode, Katya pasues the TV and puts her feet on the ground.

“Okay. You’ve been quiet.” Katya’s turned to Trixie and she’s got her elbows on her knees. “What’s up, Dolly?”

Trixie smiles. She’d been planning to bring it up later in the night, but she’s more than pleased at Katya’s observations.

“Give me one second, sweetheart.” Trixie leans over to give Katya a peck on the cheek, and then she’s bounding up to fetch her guitar. When she returns, Katya’s got her eyebrows raised in question.

“So. I finished recording the album today.”

Katya gasps and clasps her hands together.

“Trixie that’s great, holy shit!” Katya pulls her forward to plant a smooch on Trixie’s lips. “Oh my God, I’m so proud.”

Trixie smiles and feels her heart skip a beat.

“Thank you baby. And I know you’ve heard most of the stuff while I’ve been writing it and I know you’ll listen to the whole album soon enough but...there’s one song I wanna play for you right now.”

“Okay.” Katya’s barely containing a smile while she tucks her legs underneath her. Trixie thinks that she looks so cute and small and petite. Katya’s always loved when Trixie plays for her live, and Trixie thinks that she’s so lucky, for that and for a thousand other things.

When Trixie starts strumming, she watches a change come over Katya’s face. She knows Katya will recognize the melody, even though it’s been a good while since Trixie’s played it for her.

“Can a cactus and a lily find a common pot to grow…”

It’s the song Trixie wrote for Katya when they were first out of college, and the reason they have that little cactus and lily trinket in their bathroom. That line in particular has always been one that’s been special to Katya, Trixie knows - she’s scribbled it on birthday cards and love notes throughout the years, will sometimes even hum the phrase to Trixie in a low voice when they’re under the sheets.

Trixie knows it’s always had a certain effect on Katya, and now proves now exception. Katya’s got tears forming in her eyes, and at one point Trixie swears she hears the woman let out a soft “ _Oh._ ”

Trixie plays the final chords, and then she’s looking up at Katya, who’s got red eyes and a little smile on her face.

“Kat?” Trixie says softly. She puts the guitar down and reaches over to put her hand on Katya’s wrist. “You okay there, babe?”

“I wanna have a baby.”

Trixie freezes. She’s sure she must have misheard.

But then Katya’s got her feet on the floor and she’s taking both of Trixie’s hands into both of hers, and she’s looking Trixie in the eye like she’s never been more serious about anything in her life.

“I mean it, Trix. I’ve been thinking about it for awhile - if I’m honest, since before you even fully recovered. I just - I wanna have a family. I wanna have a little baby and put bows in their hair and teach them Russian and decide who will be ‘Mom’ and who will be ‘Momma’ and clean up spilled paint in the bathroom and get a mini-van and - ” Katya chokes a little bit, and then she’s laughing, tears flowing freely down her face. “I wanna have a baby with you.” She squeezes Trixie’s hands, takes a deep breath in and then out. “Trix? Can you say something?”

Trixie’s got tears in her eyes, and she feels her throat close up just a bit.

“Okay but if we have a kid I want two so that they each have a friend.”

Katya laughs. It’s a full laugh, wet from her tears, but then she’s linking her arms around Trixie’s neck, and it’s all Trixie can do to pull her close, feel the warmth of her woman against her. She doesn’t realize how hard she’s crying until she tries to talk.

“Do you mean it, Kat?” Her voice is muffled for being buried in Katya’s shoulder. In response, Katya just hugs her impossibly closer. Trixie feels a nod against her neck.

Neither of them really sleep that night. They stay awake, huddled close, brainstorming baby names. In the morning it’ll be less fun, as they hunt for in vitro clincis and sperm donors and pull together their finances. But for now it’s fun and good and light, and Trixie can’t stop giggling every time she suggests what Katya calls a ‘meangirl name’ - (“I think we need to have a daughter who reclaims ‘Stacy’ as something nice girls can be called, too”) only to have Katya groan and roll her eyes loud enough for the entire apartment complex. (“Trixie, we’re naming our daughter FBI Special Agent Dale Cooper or she’s getting no name at all.”)

Trixie isn’t sure what time they finally pass out, but she wakes up with her arms around Katya’s waist, the woman’s fingers tangled in her hair.

***  
Katya’s happy that neither of them of them wanted to wear white. 

They had done the whole wedding thing once, and Katya had revelled in the fact that even then, it was less of a perpetuation of heteronormative traditions and more of a party for Katya, Trixie, and their friends. This was their wedding day done over again, with an even smaller crowd and an even bigger budget and without the whole expectation of ‘everything has to go one-hundred percent right because this is the day you’ll remember forever and if you had a stain on your shoes well then guess what, on your fucking wedding day you had a stain on your shoes.’

The ceremony portion had gone off without a hitch. Bob acted as minister, and put on a blue velvet suit for the occasion. The whole affair was light-hearted, silly, and fun, and Katya could feel their friends in the audience enjoying it as much as they were. The couple did get teary-eyed on a couple occasions, like when Trixie decided to make the end of her vows sentimental and sweet as all get-out. They’d also sported twin veils for the day, and there were a couple moments when the silhouette of Trixie’s veil framed her face just right, and Katya couldn’t help but feel her heart jump in her chest.

They’ve just finished the whole affair, and now they’re getting ready for the reception. Trixie’s wearing a tight pink dress, and Katya thinks it’s reminiscent of that get-up she’d put on for their date party all those years ago. They’re in the bathroom of their suite at the hotel they’d rented. They had decided that if they were going to renew their vows, they might as well get a party out of it, and newlywed sex, if they can help it. 

Trixie’s running her hands down her sides, looking at herself in the mirror. Her breasts are practically spilling out of her hemline, which is an observation that goes straight to Katya’s cunt. 

“What do you think, Kat? It might be too tight, I kind of look like- _ooh!_ ” Katya cuts the woman off by wrapping her arms around her waist and giving a firm squeeze to her tits. She hooks her chin over Trixie’s shoulder and maintains eye contact with her in the mirror while talking in a low voice, right in her ear.

“Trixie, you’re looking like a tall glass of something that’s gonna make me skip this damn reception altogether.” Katya swipes her thumbs over Trixie’s nipples to emphasize her point, revelling in the gasp that she coaxes out of her.

“ _Katya!_ ” Trixie’s clearly trying to make her voice admonishing, but it comes out too airy, and then it sounds like a gasp. Backed up against her woman like this, it’s one of those moments where Katya wishes she had a dick. Trixie’s plush ass is pressed up against her front, and she wants to grind into it. Or better yet, she wants to bend Trixie over so that her breasts spill out of her dress, and then fuck her hard from behind, watching Trixie’s contorted face and pink nipples in the mirror in front of them.

“Katya, _seriously._ ” Trixie manages to peel Katya’s hands off of her just as Katya starts to suck on her neck. Katya pouts but she obliges, and then Trixie holds her at arms length and looks her up and down.

Katya knows that look - Trixie’s eyes are clouded and her mouth is drooping open just a little bit. And honestly, Katya can’t blame her. She looks good, dammit. She’s got on a tight red dress, so dark it’s almost black. The neckline goes up to her throat, but there’s a keyhole cutout that shows off the tops of her perky little breasts. Her waist is tiny and absolutely snatched in the middle by a black and white belt that has the zig-zag pattern from the red room in Twin Peaks. And to top if all off, she’s got on a sheer red negligee-style coat with little puffs on the ends of the sleeves. It threatens to slip off her shoulders, which are brazen with fresh tattoos. She loves when Trixie runs a finger down her arms, tracing the outlines of them, telling Katya about how good they look in a low, breathy voice.

She can feel Trixie tracing the outline of the tattoos with her eyes, can see the way her pupils dilate as she does.

“Come on baby, let’s ditch the party and make a night here,” Katya whines. She pulls Trixie to her by the waist, presses their breasts together for a moment. For a moment, she almost thinks she’s got Trixie. Those blue eyes keep glancing over to the king bed in the corner, and Katya knows she’s not imagining it when she feels Trixie’s nipples harden beneath her dress.

But then Trixie’s pushing her way, firmly this time and with finality.

“Katya,” she says. “Our friends are out there. We spent time, we spent money-”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” Katya relents, and emotionally tucks her dick back into her trousers. Trixie smiles and slings her slinky little purse over her shoulder. 

“We only gotta be out there a few hours,” Trixie promises, putting her hand on the hotel door. “Then I’m all yours, baby. All night, whatever you want,” she purs. Katya gets close to her, places two fingers over her lips. “And I heard that the rooms here are soundproof.”

“Trixie Mattel, you are going to fucking kill me.”

Trixie scream-laughs in delight, and then Katya is following her into the hallway. She slips her hand into Trixie’s as they make their way down to the lobby, fondly glancing at her stomach whenever she gets the chance.

***  
In the ballroom they’ve rented, their friends are drunk, loud, and happy. Katya saunters into the room with an arm wrapped securely around Trixie’s waist, and the couple are greeted with a round of rowdy applause.

Their opening dance is to Waterloo, because of course it is, and even though Trixie knows it’s coming, Katya still watches as she flings a hand to her teary face when the first note of the song sings through the room. Katya twirls Trixie around and then wraps her arms around her, revels in how beautiful she is with the lights reflecting off her dress. Sometimes, when Trixie is all dressed up like this, Katya likes to imagine that they’re in a crowd of strangers, none of which can keep their eyes of Katya’s wife. Katya takes insurmountable pleasure in the knowledge that Trixie is _hers_ , that those curves and hips and plump pink lips are coming back to _her_ bed at the end of the night.

Now is no exception, and as the song comes to an end, Katya holds Trixie tight, taking in the little squeal that escapes her lips upon impact.

As the night goes on, they mix and mingle with friends. But even when they go off to talk to people separately, Katya never lets Trixie too far from her sight. She feels like they’ve got magnets on them, like the universe will only let them go a certain distance from one another before being drawn back together again.

Jinkx and Dela are red and wasted, Willam crawled into Alaska’s lap long ago, and Thorgy’s trying to see if she can rent a violin so that she can play along with the DJ. Katya looks around the room and feels happy and warm, thinks she could cry with how lovely the family they’ve built around them has turned out to be.

“Hey Kat?” Katya’s listening to Jinkx give a drunken monologue about the golden age of Hollywood when Trixie taps her shoulder and leans into her ear. “I think it’s time.”

Katya nods and excuses herself from Jinkx, who barely notices the departure, turning to her wife to continue her diatribe on Rita Hayworth.

Trixie and Katya move to the raised platform that functions as a stage, signalling the DJ to turn the music off.

“Good evening, you wretched whores!” Katya announces into the microphone, getting a chorus of drunken hoots in return. It makes her laugh, and she takes Trixie’s hand in hers. Tonight, they’ve both stayed completely sober. “We wanna take this time to thank every one of you hobgoblins for coming out to our oh-so-self-indulgent celebration of lesbian love.” Katya pauses to turn to Trixie, who’s smiling ear to ear. They get another round of applause. “Now we’ve got a couple announcements before we let you hooker hustle your way home to your respective whorehouses. 

“First and foremost, as most of you have probably caught wind of if you’ve got two eyes and ears, my darling, wonderful wife is coming out with an _album!_ ” This gets a chorus of cheers and claps, and Katya turns to her wife to cheer her, too. Trixie’s putting on a show of being pretend-miffed, but Katya can see that she’s really flattered and quite pleased.

“Thank you, thank you,” Trixie coos into the microphone. “It’ll be available everywhere pornos are sold!” Their friends laugh, and Trixie turns to Katya. Katya nods and takes her hand. “Now we’ve got another little announcement that I think will be...more surprising to you guys.” Trixie turns to Katya one more time, and Katya squeezes her hand. “I’m sure you’ve all been wondering why we decided to push this little shindig back a few months. And it’s not because we had a hard time tracking down the best caterers in town - we still managed to get shitty ones. The truth is, we know what a pain in the ass it is to call all your loved ones when something significant happens in your life - trust me, we of all people know - so we thought we’d take advantage having of all the people we give two shits about in one room to make an announcement. So uh.... I don’t really know how to say this other than - me and Katya are gonna be parents.”

Katya knows she’s not imagining it when she hears about ten audible gasps, and then they’re getting the biggest round of applause yet. Katya puts her hand on Trixie’s tummy and drops a kiss to her shoulder. Trixie’s cheeks are bright pink and she squeezes Katya’s fingers where they rest on her abdomen.

“We’ll be taking gender neutral name ideas in a box of my old pantyhose at the front desk!” Katya announces, taking Trixie in her arms to give her a big ole smooch on the stage.

The couple makes their exit soon after that, weaving through a crowd of tipsy congratulations that Katya thinks might be forgotten by morning. Before long they’re back in their hotel room, and Katya gets to _finally_ peel Trixie’s dress off of her, laying her out on the bed. Trixie’s pink, soft, and so worked up. Since they did the in vitro appointment a few months back and Trixie peed on a stick that told her it worked, Trixie’s hormones have made her shoot back and forth between _desperate to be fucked_ and _if you even touch me I will throw up my guts._ Tonight it’s the former, and Trixie and Katya are all for getting the most out of the sex life they have before it’s taken away from them for the forseeable future.

Katya fucks her slow and hard that night, as Trixie whispers things like, “Put a baby in me, Kat, knock me up, show everyone I’m yours.” Language like that might have given her the heebie jeebies a couple years ago, but now it drives Katya wild. 

A few hours later, Trixie’s dozed off and Katya finds herself wide awake. Not wanting to disturb the sleeping beauty, she puts on her psuedo-negligee and wades out to the balcony. The New York skyline is splayed out before her, and Katya can hear the city awake as ever despite the hour. She wonders how long till the sun comes up.

“Katya?” She’s only been on the balcony a few minutes before Trixie’s poking her head through the door. She’s got the hotel robe wrapped around her, and Katya thinks she can almost make out the baby bump below her breasts.

“Hey baby,” Katya says, already feeling warmer. She pats her lap and Trixie looks tentative.

“Kat, I’m getting so heavy-”

“Shhhh,” Katya cuts her off, pulling Trixie by the wrists until she’s seated on Katya’s legs. “I am big strong Russian lady here to take care of my pretty little Barbie doll,” Katya says in her deepest Russian accent. Trixie giggles and Katya takes the opportunity to give her a little squeeze. Trixie isn’t that much heavier than her usual weight. Katya knows that in a few months time her tummy will get rounder and her breasts will get heavier, and she won’t be able to plop the woman in her lap like this. She thinks she’ll take advantage of every moment she has before that happens.

“I hope it’s a girl,” Trixie says softly.

“I hope it’s a boy,” Katya counters. 

“I hope she looks like you.”

“I hope _he_ looks like _you._ ” Katya pinches Trixie’s thigh. They go back and forth like that all the time now. They like to act like it really was Katya who got Trixie pregnant, that there’s just as much of a possibility that the baby will look like Katya as it will Trixie. Trixie’s already started saying that she wants the next baby to be from Katya’s egg instead of hers. If they have another one, Katya wants to adopt. 

_We’ll figure it out,_ Katya always says, and she knows that they will.

They bicker like that a little bit longer, but before too long Katya’s eyes start to droop.

“Kat,” Trixie pinches her cheek. “We better get to sleep.”

Katya grumbles.

“I know, I know, I just - I kind of wanted to see the sun come up.”

Trixie smiles and pecks a kiss on Katya’s forehead. Then she’s getting up and pulling Katya into the room with her.

“Some other time, baby,” Trixie promises. “We’ve only got the rest of our lives.”

She smiles as she follows Trixie into bed. Katya’s getting to the age where talks about babies and promises of forever soothe rather than scare her. It’s a strange thing to think about - getting older. But with Trixie, she doesn’t mind as much.

They cuddle into bed and turn off the lights, and Katya pulls Trixie close. She’s warm and soft and _here_ and hers. Before they doze off, Katya says the new thing that they say.

“Goodnight, Trix.” She kisses the top of her head. “Promise you’ll be there in the morning?”

She feels Trixie smile into her chest.

“Promise.”


End file.
